AMBASSADOR 


E.PHILLIPS 
OPPENHEIM 


THE   NOVELS   OF 

E.  PHILLIPS   OPPENHEIM 


THE  LOST  AMBASSADOR 
THE  ILLUSTRIOUS  PRINCE 
JEANNE  OF  THE  MARSHES 

A  PRINCE  0:^  SINNERS  A  SLEEPING  MEMORY 

ANNA  THE  ADVENTURESS  THE  MALEFACTOR 

THE  MASTER  MUMMER  A  LOST  LEADER 

A  MAKER  OF  HISTORY  THE  GREAT  SECRET 

MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN  THE  AVENGER 

THE  YELLOW  CRAYON  As  A  MAN  LIVES 

THE  BETRAYAL  THE  LONG  ARM  OF  MANNISTER 

THE  TRAITORS  THE  MISSIONER 

ENOCH  STROKE  THE  GOVERNORS 

THE  MAN  AND  His  KINGDOM 
A  MILLIONAIRE  OF  YESTERDAY 


I  RAISED  MY  GLASS,  LOOKING  HER  FULL  IN  THE  FACE,   AND  DRANK. 

Page  30 


The 
Lost  Ambassador 


Or,  The  Search  for  the  Missing  Delora 


By  E.  PHILLIPS  OPPENHEIM 

Author  of  "The  Illustrious  Prince,"  "The  Missioner/ 
"Jeanne  of  the  Marshes,"  "A  Prince 
of  Sinners,"  etc. 


WITH  FOUR  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLORS 
BY  HOWARD  CHANDLER  CHRISTY 


A  L.  BURT   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1910, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  riff  Jits  reserved 
Published,  September,  1910 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    A  RENCONTRE 1 

II.    A  CAFE  IN  PARIS 8 

III.  DELORA 13 

IV.  DANGEROUS  PLAY 24 

V.    SATISFACTION 31 

VI.    AN  INFORMAL  TRIBUNAL 36 

VII.  A  DOUBLE  ASSIGNATION 46 

VIII.  Louis  INSISTS 56 

IX.  A  TRAVELLING  ACQUAINTANCE  ....  65 

X.  DELORA  DISAPPEARS 75 

XI.  THROUGH  THE  TELEPHONE  ......  84 

XII.  FELICIA  DELORA 91 

XIII.  Louis,  MAfTRE  D'HOTEL 99 

XIV.  Louis  EXPLAINS 108 

XV.  A  DANGEROUS  IMPERSONATION      .     .     .     .  115 

XVI.    Two  OF  A  TRADE 123 

XVII.     A  VERY  SPECIAL  DINNER 130 

XVIII.  CONTRASTS  137 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTEH  PAGE 

XIX.    WHEELS  WITHIN  WHEELS 144 

XX.    A  TERRIBLE  NIGHT 152 

XXI.    A  CHANGE  OF  PLANS 159 

XXII.    A  FORMAL  CALL 168 

XXIII.  FELICIA 174 

XXIV.  A  TANTALIZING  GLIMPSE 181 

XXV.    PRIVATE  AND  DIPLOMATIC 189 

XXVI.    NEARLY 195 

XXVII.    WAR 201 

XXVIII.    CHECK 207 

XXIX.  AN  UNSATISFACTORY  INTERVIEW  .     .     .  213 

XXX.    To  NEWCASTLE  BY  ROAD 221 

XXXI.    AN  INTERESTING  DAY 228 

XXXII.    A  PROPOSAL 236 

XXXIII.  FELICIA  HESITATES 243 

XXXIV.  AN  APPOINTMENT  WITH  DELORA      .     .  251 
XXXV.    A  NARROW  ESCAPE 257 

XXXVI.    AN  ABORTIVE  ATTEMPT 265 

XXXVII.    DELORA  RETURNS 271 

XXXVIII.    AT  BAY 280 

XXXIX.  THE  UNEXPECTED  287 


THE  LOST  AMBASSADOR 


CHAPTER  I 

A   RENCONTRE 

THERE  was  no  particular  reason  why,  after  having  left  the 
Opera  House,  I  should  have  retraced  my  steps  and  taken 
my  place  once  more  amongst  the  throng  of  people  who 
stood  about  in  the  entresol,  exchanging  greetings  and  wait- 
ing for  their  carriages.  A  backward  glance  as  I  had  been 
about  to  turn  into  the  Place  de  1 'Opera  had  arrested  my 
somewhat  hurried  departure.  The  night  was  young,  and 
where  else  was  such  a  sight  to  be  seen  ?  Besides,  was  it 
not  amongst  some  such  throng  as  this  that  the  end  of  my 
search  might  come  ? 

I  took  up  my  place  just  inside,  close  to  one  of  the  pillars, 
and,  with  an  unlit  cigarette  still  in  my  mouth,  watched  the 
flying  chausseurs,  the  medley  of  vehicles  outside,  the  soft 
flow  of  women  in  their  white  opera  cloaks  and  jewels,  who 
with  their  escorts  came  streaming  down  the  stairs  and  out 
of  the  great  building,  to  enter  the  waiting  carriages  and 
motor-cars  drawn  up  in  the  privileged  space  within  the 
enclosure,  or  stretching  right  down  into  the  Boulevard.  I 
stood  there,  watching  them  drive  off  one  by  one.  I  was 
borne  a  little  nearer  to  the  door  by  the  rush  of  people,  and 
I  was  able,  in  most  cases,  to  hear  the  directions  of  the  men 
as  they  followed  their  womankind  into  the  waiting  vehicles. 
In  nearly  every  case  their  destination  was  one  of  the  fa- 
mous restaurants.  Music  begets  hunger  in  most  capitals, 


2  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

and  the  cafes  of  Paris  are  never  so  full  as  after  a  great 
night  at  the  Opera.  To-night  there  had  been  a  wonderful 
performance.  The  flow  of  people  down  the  stairs  seemed 
interminable.  Young  women  and  old,  —  sleepy-looking 
beauties  of  the  Southern  type,  whose  dark  eyes  seemed 
half  closed  with  a  languor  partly  passionate,  partly  of  pride ; 
women  of  the  truer  French  type,  —  brilliant,  smiling, 
vivacious,  mostly  pale,  seldom  good-looking,  always  at- 
tractive. A  few  Germans,  a  fair  sprinkling  of  English- 
women, and  a  larger  proportion  still  of  Americans,  whose 
women  were  the  best  dressed  of  the  whole  company.  I 
was  not  sorry  that  I  had  returned.  It  was  worth  watch- 
ing, this  endless  stream  of  varying  types. 

Towards  the  end  there  came  out  two  people  who  were 
becoming  almost  familiar  figures  to  me.  The  man  was 
one  of  those  whose  nationality  was  not  so  easily  sur- 
mised. He  was  tall  and  thin,  with  iron-gray  hair,  com- 
plexion so  sallow  as  to  be  almost  yellow,  black  moustache 
and  imperial,  handsome  in  his  way,  distinguished,  inde- 
scribable. By  his  side  was  a  girl  who  had  the  air  of  wear- 
ing her  first  long  skirt,  whose  hair  was  arranged  in  some- 
what juvenile  fashion,  and  whose  dark  eyes  were  still 
glowing  with  the  joy  of  the  music.  Her  figure,  though 
very  slim,  was  delightful,  and  she  walked  as  though  her 
feet  touched  the  clouds.  Her  laugh,  which  I  heard  dis- 
tinctly as  she  brushed  by  me  only  a  few  feet  away,  was  like 
music.  Of  all  the  people  who  had  passed  me,  or  whom  I 
had  come  across  during  my  fortnight's  stay  in  Paris,  there 
was  no  one  half  so  attractive.  The  girl  was  absolutely 
charming;  the  man,  remarkable  not  only  in  himself,  but 
for  a  certain  air  of  repressed  emotion, which,  while  it  robbed 
his  features  of  the  dignity  of  repose,  was  still,  in  a  way, 
fascinating.  They  entered  a  waiting  motor-car  splendidly 


A    RENCONTRE  3 

appointed,  and  I  heard  the  man  tell  the  tall,  liveried  foot- 
man to  drive  to  the  Ritz.  I  leaned  forward  a  little  eagerly 
as  they  went.  I  watched  the  car  glide  off  and  disappear, 
watched  it  until  it  was  out  of  sight,  and  afterwards,  even, 
watched  the  spot  where  it  had  vanished.  Then,  with  a 
little  sigh,  I  turned  back  once  more  into  the  great  hall. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  one  left  now  of  any  interest.  The 
women  had  become  ordinary,  the  men  impossible.  With 
a  little  sigh  I  too  aimlessly  descended  the  steps,  and  stood 
for  a  moment  uncertain  which  way  to  turn. 

"Monsieur  is  looking  for  a  light?"  a  quiet  voice  said 
in  my  ear. 

I  turned,  and  found  myself  confronted  by  a  Frenchman, 
who  had  also  just  issued  from  the  building  and  was  him- 
self lighting  a  cigarette.  He  was  clean-shaven  and  pale,  so 
pale  that  his  complexion  was  almost  olive.  He  had  soft, 
curious-looking  eyes.  He  was  of  medium  height,  dark, 
correctly  dressed  according  to  the  fashion  of  his  country, 
although  his  tie  was  black  and  his  studs  of  unusual  size. 
Something  about  his  face  struck  me  from  the  first  as 
familiar,  but  for  the  moment  I  could  not  recall  having 
seen  him  before. 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  I  answered,  accepting  the 
match  which  he  offered. 

The  night  was  clear,  and  breathlessly  still.  The  full 
yellow  moon  was  shining  in  an  absolutely  cloudless  sky. 
The  match  —  an  English  wax  one,  by  the  way  —  burned 
without  a  flicker.  I  lit  my  cigarette,  and  turning  around 
found  my  companion  still  standing  by  my  side. 

"Monsieur  does  not  do  me  the  honor  to  recollect  me,'* 
he  remarked,  with  a  faint  smile. 

I  looked  at  him  steadfastly. 

"I  am  sorry,"  I  said.    "Your  face  is  perfectly  familial 


4  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

to  me,  and  yet —  No,  by  Jove,  I  have  it!"  I  broke 
off,  with  a  little  laugh.  "It's  Louis,  isn't  it,  from  the 
Milan?" 

"Monsieur's  memory  has  soon  returned,"  he  answered, 
smiling.  "I  have  been  chief  maitre  d' hotel  in  the  cafe 
there  for  some  years.  The  last  time  I  had  the  honor  of 
serving  monsieur  there  was  only  a  few  weeks  ago." 

I  remembered  him  perfectly  now.  I  remembered,  even, 
the  occasion  of  my  last  visit  to  the  cafe.  Louis,  with  up- 
raised hat,  seemed  as  though  he  would  have  passed  on, 
but,  curiously  enough,  I  felt  a  desire  to  continue  the 
conversation.  I  had  not  as  yet  admitted  the  fact  even  to 
myself;  but  I  was  bored,  weary  of  my  search,  weary  to 
death  of  my  own  company  and  the  company  of  my  own 
acquaintances.  I  was  reluctant  to  let  this  little  man  go. 

"You  visit  Paris  often?"  I  asked. 

"But  naturally,  monsieur,"  Louis  answered,  accepting 
my  unspoken  invitation  by  keeping  pace  w^ith  me  as  we 
strolled  towards  the  Boulevard.  "Once  every  six  weeks 
I  come  over  here.  I  go  to  the  Ritz,  Paillard's,  the  Cafe  de 
Paris,  —  to  the  others  also.  It  is  an  affair  of  business,  of 
course.  One  must  learn  how  the  Frenchman  eats  and 
what  he  eats,  that  one  may  teach  the  art." 

"But  you  are  a  Frenchman  yourself,  Louis,"  I  remarked. 

"But,  monsieur,"  he  answered,  "I  live  in  London. 
Voila  tout.  One  cannot  write  menus  there  for  long,  and 
succeed.  One  needs  inspiration." 

"And  you  find  it  here?"  I  asked. 

Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Paris,  monsieur,"  he  answered,  "is  my  home.  It  is 
always  a  pleasure  to  me  to  see  smiling  faces,  to  see  men  and 
women  who  walk  as  though  every  footstep  were  taking 
them  nearer  to  happiness.  Have  you  never  noticed,  mon- 


A    RENCONTRE  5 

sieur,"  he  continued,  "the  difference?  They  do  not  plod 
here  as  do  your  English  people.  There  is  a  buoyancy  in 
their  footsteps,  a  mirth  in  their  laughter,  an  expectancy 
in  the  way  they  look  around,  as  though  adventures  were 
everywhere.  I  cannot  understand  it,  but  one  feels  it 
directly  one  sets  foot  in  Paris." 

I  nodded  —  a  little  bitterly,  perhaps. 

"It  is  temperament,"  I  answered.  "We  may  envy,  but 
we  cannot  acquire  it." 

"It  seems  strange  to  see  monsieur  alone  here,"  Louis 
remarked.  "In  London,  it  is  always  so  different.  Mon- 
sieur has  so  many  acquaintances." 

I  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"I  am  here  in  search  of  some  one,"  I  told  Louis.  "It 
is  n't  a  very  pleasant  mission,  and  the  memory  of  it  is 
always  with  me." 

"A  search!"  Louis  repeated  thoughtfully.  "Paris  is  a 
large  place,  monsieur." 

"On  the  contrary,"  I  answered,  "it  is  small  enough  if  a 
man  will  but  play  the  game.  A  man,  who  knows  his  Paris, 
must  be  in  one  of  half-a-dozen  places  some  time  during  the 
day." 

"It  is  true,"  Louis  admitted.  "Yet  monsieur  has  not 
been  successful." 

"It  has  been  because  some  one  has  warned  the  man  of 
whom  I  am  in  search !"  I  declared. 

"There  are  worse  places,"  he  remarked,  "in  which  one 
might  be  forced  to  spend  one's  time." 

"In  theory,  excellent,  Louis,"  I  said.  "In  practice,  I 
am  afraid  I  cannot  agree  with  you.  So  far,"  I  declared, 
gloomily,  "my  pilgrimage  has  been  an  utter  failure.  I 
cannot  meet,  I  cannot  hear  of,  the  man  who  I  know  was 
flaunting  it  before  the  world  three  weeks  ago." 


6  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Monsieur  can  do  no  more  than  seek,"  he  remarked. 
"For  the  rest,  one  may  leave  many  burdens  behind  in  the 
train  at  the  Gare  du  Nord." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"One  cannot  acquire  gayety  by  only  watching  other 
people  who  are  gay,"  I  declared.  "Paris  is  not  for  those 
who  have  anxieties,  Louis.  If  ever  I  were  suffering  from 
melancholia,  for  instance,  I  should  choose  some  other 
place  for  a  visit." 

Louis  laughed  softly. 

"Ah  !  Monsieur,"  he  answered,  "you  could  not  choose 
better.  There  is  no  place  so  gay  as  this,  no  place  so  full 
of  distractions." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"It  is  your  native  city,"  I  reminded  him. 

"That  goes  for  nothing,"  Louis  answered.  "Where  I 
live,  there  always  I  make  my  native  city.  I  have  lived  in 
Vienna  and  Berlin,  Budapest  and  Palermo,  Florence  and 
London.  It  is  not  an  affair  of  the  place.  Yet  of  all  these, 
if  one  seeks  it,  there  is  most  distraction  to  be  found  here. 
Monsieur  does  not  agree  with  me,"  he  added,  glancing 
into  my  face.  "There  is  one  thing  more  which  I  would 
tell  him.  Perhaps  it  is  the  explanation.  Paris,  the  very 
home  of  happiness  and  gayety,  is  also  the  loneliest  and  the 
saddest  city  in  the  world  for  those  who  go  alone." 

"There  is  truth  in  what  you  say,  Louis,"  I  admitted. 

"The  very  fact,"  he  continued  slowly,  "that  all  the 
world  amuses  itself,  all  the  world  is  gay  here,  makes  the 
solitude  of  the  unfortunate  who  has  no  companion  a  thing 
more  triste,  more  keenly  to  be  felt.  Monsieur  is  alone  ?" 

"I  am  alone,"  I  admitted,  "except  for  the  companions 
of  chance  whom  one  meets  everywhere." 


A    RENCONTRE  7 

We  had  been  walking  for  some  time  slowly  side  by  side, 
and  we  came  now  to  a  standstill.  Louis  held  up  his  hand 
and  called  a  taximeter. 

"Monsieur  goes  somewhere  to  sup,  without  a  doubt," 
he  remarked. 

I  remained  upon  the  pavement. 

"Really,  I  don't  know,"  I  answered  undecidedly. 
"There  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  what  you  have  been 
saying.  A  man  alone  here,  especially  at  night,  seems  to 
be  looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  pariah.  Women  laugh  at  him, 
men  pity  him.  It  is  only  the  Englishman,  they  think,  who 
would  do  so  foolish  a  thing." 

Louis  hesitated.  There  was  a  peculiar  smile  at  the 
corners  of  his  lips  which  I  did  not  quite  understand. 

"If  monsieur  would  honor  me,"  he  said  apologetically, 
"I  am  going  to-night  to  visit  one  or  perhaps  two  of  the 
smallest  restaurants  up  in  the  Montmartre.  They  are  by 
way  of  being  fashionable  now,  and  they  tell  me  that 
there  is  an  Homard  Speciale  with  a  new  sauce  which  must 
be  tasted  at  the  Abbaye." 

All  the  apology  in  Louis'  tone  was  wasted.  It  troubled 
me  not  in  the  least  that  my  companion  should  be  a  maitre 
d'hotel.  I  did  not  hesitate  for  a  second. 

"I  '11  come  with  pleasure,  Louis,"  I  said,  "on  condition 
that  I  am  host.  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  take  pity  upon 
me.  We  will  take  this  taximeter,  shall  we?" 

Louis  bowed.  Once  more  I  fancied  that  there  was  some- 
thing in  his  face  which  I  did  not  altogether  understand. 

"It  is  an  honor,  monsieur,"  he  said.  "We  will  start, 
then,  with  the  Abbaye." 


CHAPTER  H 

A    CAFE    IN   PARIS 

THE  Paris  taximeters  are  good,  and  our  progress  was 
rapid.  We  passed  through  the  crowded  streets,  where  the 
women  spread  themselves  out  like  beautiful  butterflies, 
where  the  electric  lights  were  deadened  by  the  brilliance 
of  the  moon,  where  men,  bent  double  over  the  handles  of 
their  bicycles,  shot  hither  and  thither  with  great  paper 
lanterns  alight  in  front  of  them.  We  passed  into  the 
quieter  streets,  though  even  here  the  wayfarers  whom  we 
met  were  obviously  bent  on  pleasure,  up  the  hill,  till  at 
last  we  pulled  up  at  one  of  the  best-known  restaurants  in 
the  locality.  Here  Louis  was  welcomed  as  a  prince.  The 
manager,  with  many  exclamations  and  gesticulations, 
shook  hands  with  him  like  a  long-lost  brother.  The 
maitres  d'hotel  all  came  crowding  up  for  a  word  of  greeting. 
A  table  in  the  best  part  of  the  room,  which  was  marked 
reserve,  was  immediately  made  ready.  Champagne,  al- 
ready in  its  pail  of  ice,  was  by  our  side  almost  before  we 
had  taken  our  places. 

I  had  been  here  a  few  nights  before,  alone,  and  had 
found  the  place  uninspiring  enough.  To-night,  except  that 
Louis  told  me  the  names  of  many  of  the  people,  and  that 
the  supper  was  the  best  meal  which  I  had  eaten  in  Paris, 
I  was  very  little  more  amused.  The  nigger,  the  Spanish 
dancing-girl  with  her  rolling  eyes,  the  English  music-hall 
singer  with  her  unmistakable  Lancashire  accent,  went 
through  the  same  performance.  The  gowns  of  the  women 


A    CAFE    IN    PARIS  9 

were  wonderful,  —  more  wonderful  still  their  hats,  their 
gold  purses,  the  costly  trifles  which  they  carried.  A  woman 
by  our  side  sat  looking  into  a  tiny  pocket-mirror  of  gold 
studded  with  emeralds,  powdering  her  face  the  while  with 
a  powder-puff  to  match,  in  the  centre  of  which  were  more 
emeralds,  large  and  beautifully  cut.  Louis  noticed  my 
scrutiny. 

"The  wealth  of  France,"  he  whispered  in  my  ear,  "is 
spent  upon  its  women.  What  the  Englishman  spends  at 
his  club  or  on  his  sports  the  Frenchman  spends  upon  his 
womankind.  Even  the  bourgeoisie,  who  hold  their  money 
with  clenched  fists  like  that,"  he  gesticulated,  striking 
the  table,  "for  their  women  they  spend,  spend  freely. 
They  do  all  this,  and  the  great  thing  which  they  ask  in 
return  is  that  they  are  amused.  After  all,  monsieur,"  he 
continued,  "they  are  logical.  What  a  man  wants  most  in 
life,  in  the  intervals  between  his  work,  is  amusement.  It  is 
amusement  that  keeps  him  young,  keeps  him  in  health. 
It  is  his  womankind  who  provide  that  amusement." 

"And  if  one  does  not  happen  to  be  married  to  a  French- 
woman ?" 

Louis  nodded  sympathetically. 

"Monsieur  is  feeling  like  that,"  he  said,  as  he  sipped  his 
wine  thoughtfully.  "Yes,  it  is  very  plain  !  Yet  monsieur 
is  not  always  sad.  I  have  seen  him  often  at  my  restaurant, 
the  guest  or  the  host  of  many  pleasant  parties.  There  is  a 
change  since  those  days,  a  change  indeed.  I  noticed  it 
when  I  ventured  to  address  monsieur  on  the  steps  of  the 
Opera  House." 

I  remained  gloomily  silent.  It  was  one  thing  to  avail 
myself  of  the  society  of  a  very  popular  little  maUre  d'hotel, 
holiday  making  in  his  own  capital,  and  quite  another  to 
take  him  even  a  few  steps  into  my  confidence.  So  I  said 


io  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

nothing,  but  my  eyes,  which  travelled  around  the  room, 
were  weary. 

"After  all,"  Louis  continued,  helping  himself  to  a 
cigarette,  "what  is  there  in  a  place  like  this  to  amuse? 
We  are  not  Americans  or  tourists.  The  Montmartre  is 
finished.  The  novelists  and  the  story-tellers  have  killed  it. 
The  women  come  here  because  they  love  to  show  their 
jewelry,  to  flirt  with  the  men.  The  men  come  because 
their  womankind  desire  it,  and  because  it  is  their  habit. 
But  for  the  rest  there  is  nothing.  The  true  Parisian  may 
come  here,  perhaps,  once  or  twice  a  year,  —  no  more. 
For  the  man  of  the  world  —  such  as  you  and  I,  monsieur, 
—  these  places  do  not  exist." 

I  glanced  at  my  companion  a  little  curiously.  There  was 
something  in  his  manner  distinctly  puzzling.  With  his 
lips  he  was  smiling  approval  at  the  little  danseuse  who  was 
pirouetting  near  our  table,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  his 
mind  was  busy  with  other  thoughts.  Suddenly  he  turned 
his  head  toward  mine. 

"Monsieur  must  remember,"  he  said  quietly,  "that  a 
place  like  this  is  as  the  froth  on  our  champagne.  It  is  all 
show.  It  exists  and  it  passes  away.  This  very  restaurant 
may  be  unknown  in  a  year's  time,  —  a  beer  palace  for 
the  Germans,  a  den  of  absinthe  and  fiery  brandy  for  the 
cockers.  It  is  for  the  tourists,  for  the  happy  ladies  of  the 
world,  that  such  a  place  exists.  For  those  who  need  other 
things  —  other  things  exist." 

"Go  on,  Louis,"  I  said  quietly.  "You  have  something 
in  your  mind.  What  is  it  ?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  think,"  he  said  slowly,  "that  I  could  take  monsieur 
somewhere  where  he  would  be  more  entertained.  There 
is  nothing  to  do  there,  nothing  to  see,  little  music.  But  it 


A    CAFE    IN    PARIS  n 

is  a  place,  —  it  has  an  atmosphere.    It  is  different.    I  can- 
not explain.    Monsieur  would  understand  if  he  were  there." 

"Then,  for  Heaven's  sake,  let  us  pay  our  bill  and  go !" 
I  exclaimed.  "We  have  both  had  enough  of  this,  at  any 
rate." 

Louis  did  not  immediately  reply.  I  turned  around  — 
we  were  sitting  side  by  side  —  wondering  at  his  lack  of 
response.  What  I  saw  startled  me.  The  man's  whole 
expression  had  changed.  His  mouth  had  come  together 
with  a  new  firmness.  A  frown  which  I  had  never  seen 
before  had  darkened  his  forehead.  His  eyes  had  become 
little  points  of  light.  I  realized  then,  perhaps  for  the  first 
time,  their  peculiar  color,  —  a  sort  of  green  tinged  with 
gray.  He  presented  the  appearance  of  a  man  of  intelligence 
and  acumen  who  is  thinking  deeply  over  some  matter  of 
vital  importance. 

"Well,  what  is  it,  Louis  ?"  I  asked.  "Are  you  repenting 
of  your  offer  already  ?  Don't  you  want  to  take  me  to  this 
other  place?" 

"It  is  not  that,  monsieur,"  Louis  answered  softly, 
"only  I  was  wondering  if  I  had  been  a  little  rash." 

"Rash?"   I  repeated. 

Louis  nodded  his  head  slowly,  but  he  paused  for  several 
moments  before  speaking. 

"I  was  only  wondering,"  said  he,  "whether,  after  all, 
it  would  amuse  you.    There  is  nothing  to  be  seen,  not  so 
much  as  here.     Afterwards,  perhaps,  you  might  regret  — 
you  might  think  that  I  had  done  wrong  in  not  telling  you 
certain  things  about  the  place  which  must  remain  secret." 

"We  will  risk  that,"  I  answered,  rising.  "Let  me  come 
with  you  and  I  will  judge  for  myself." 

Louis  followed  my  example,  but  I  fancied  that  I  still 
detected  a  slight  unwillingness  in  his  movements.  My 


12  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

request  for  the  bill  had  been  met  with  a  smile  and  a  polite 
shake  of  the  head.  Louis  whispered  in  my  ear  that  we 
were  the  guests  of  the  management,  —  that  it  would 
not  be  correct  to  offer  the  money  for  our  entertainment. 
So  I  was  forced  to  content  myself  with  tipping  the  head- 
waiter  and  the  vestiaire,  the  chausseur  who  opened  the 
door,  and  the  tall  commissionnaire  who  welcomed  us  upon 
the  pavement  and  whistled  for  a  petite  voiture. 

"Where  to,  messieurs?"  the  man  asked,  as  the  carriage 
drew  up. 

Even  then  Louis  hesitated.  He  was  sitting  on  the  side 
of  the  carriage  nearest  to  the  pavement,  and  he  rose  to  his 
feet  as  the  question  wras  asked.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he 
almost  whispered  the  address  into  the  ear  of  the  coachman. 
At  any  rate,  I  heard  nothing  of  it.  The  man  nodded,  and 
turned  eastward. 

"Bon  soir,  messieurs!"  the  commissionnaire  called  out, 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"Bon  soir!"  I  answered,  with  my  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
flaring  lights  of  the  Boulevard,  towards  which  we  had 
turned. 


CHAPTER  III 

DELORA 

Louis,  during  that  short  drive,  most  unaccount- 
ably silent.  Several  times  I  made  casual  remarks.  Once 
or  twice  I  tried  to  learn  from  him  what  sort  of  a  place  this 
was  to  which  we  were  bound.  He  answered  me  only  in 
monosyllables.  I  was  conscious  all  the  time  of  a  certain 
subtle  but  unmistakable  change  in  his  manner.  Up  to 
the  moment  of  his  suggesting  this  expedition  he  had  re- 
mained the  suave,  perfectly  mannered  superior  servant, 
accepted  into  equality  for  a  time  by  one  of  his  clients,  and 
very  careful  not  to  presume  in  any  way  upon  his  position. 
It  is  not  snobbish  to  say  this,  because  it  was  the  truth. 
Louis  was  chief  maitre  d'hotel  at  one  of  the  best  res- 
taurants in  London.  I  was  an  ex-officer  in  a  cavalry 
regiment,  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Welmington,  with  a 
moderate  income,  and  a  more  than  moderate  idea  of  how 
to  spend  it.  Louis  was  servant  and  I  was  master.  It  had 
pleased  me  to  make  a  companion  of  him  for  a  short  time, 
and  his  manner  had  been  a  perfect  acknowledgment  of 
our  relative  positions.  And  now  it  seemed  to  me  that 
there  was  a  change.  Louis  had  become  more  like  a  man, 
less  like  a  waiter.  There  was  a  strength  in  his  face  which 
I  had  not  previously  observed,  a  darkening  anxiety  which 
puzzled  me.  He  treated  my  few  remarks  with  scant 
courtesy.  He  was  obviously  thinking  about  something 
else.  It  seemed  as  though,  for  some  inexplicable  reason, 
he  had  already  repented  of  his  suggestion. 


14  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Look  here,  Louis,"  I  said,  "you  seem  a  little  bothered 
about  taking  me  to  this  place.  Perhaps  they  do  not  care 
about  strangers  there.  I  am  not  at  all  keen,  really,  and 
I  am  afraid  I  am  not  fit  company  for  anybody.  Better 
drop  me  here  and  go  on  by  yourself.  I  can  amuse  myself 
all  right  at  some  of  these  little  out-of-the-way  places  until 
I  feel  inclined  to  go  home." 

Louis  turned  and  looked  at  me.  For  a  moment  I  thought 
that  he  was  going  to  accept  my  offer.  He  opened  his 
mouth  but  said  nothing.  He  looked  away  into  the  dark- 
ness once  more,  and  then  back  into  my  face.  By  this 
time  I  knew  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind.  He  was  more 
like  himself  again. 

"Monsieur  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "if  I  have  hesitated 
at  all,  it  was  for  your  sake.  You  are  a  gentleman  of  great 
position.  Afterwards  you  might  feel  sorry  to  think  that 
you  had  been  in  such  a  place,  or  in  such  company." 

I  patted  him  on  the  shoulder  reassuringly. 

"My  dear  Louis,"  said  I,  "you  need  have  no  such 
fears  about  me.  I  am  a  little  of  an  adventurer,  a  little  of  a 
Bohemian.  There  is  no  one  else  who  has  a  claim  upon 
my  life,  and  I  do  as  I  please.  Can't  you  tell  me  a  little 
more  about  this  mysterious  cafe?" 

"There  is  so  little  to  tell,"  Louis  said.  "Of  one  thing 
I  can  assure  you,  —  you  will  be  disappointed.  There  is 
no  music,  no  dancing.  The  interest  is  only  in  the  people 
who  go  there,  and  their  lives.  It  may  be,"  he  continued 
thoughtfully,  "that  you  will  not  find  them  much  different 
from  all  the  others." 

"But  there  is  a  difference,  Louis?"  I  asked. 

"Wait,"  he  answered.     "You  shall  see." 

The  cab  pulled  up  in  front  of  a  very  ordinary-looking 
cafe  in  a  side  street  leading  from  one  of  the  boulevards. 


DELORA  15 

Louis  dismissed  the  man  and  looked  for  a  moment  or 
two  up  and  down  the  pavement.  His  caution  appeared 
to  be  quite  needless,  for  the  thoroughfare  was  none  too 
well  lit,  and  it  was  almost  empty.  Then  he  entered  the 
cafe,  motioning  me  to  follow  him. 

"Don't  look  around  too  much,"  he  whispered.  "There 
are  many  people  here  who  do  not  care  to  be  spied  upon." 

My  first  glance  into  the  place  was  disappointing.  I  was 
beginning  to  lose  faith  in  Louis.  After  all,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  the  end  of  our  adventure  would  be  ordinary  enough, 
that  I  should  find  myself  in  one  of  those  places  which  the 
touting  guides  of  the  Boulevard  speak  of  in  bated  breath, 
which  one  needs  to  be  very  young  indeed  to  find  inter- 
esting even  for  a  moment.  The  ground  floor  of  the  cafe 
through  which  we  passed  was  like  a  thousand  others  in 
different  parts  of  Paris.  The  floor  was  sanded,  the  people 
were  of  the  lower  orders,  —  rough-looking  men  drinking 
beer  or  sipping  cordials;  women  from  whom  one  in- 
stinctively looked  away,  and  whose  shrill  laughter  was 
devoid  of  a  single  note  of  music.  It  was  all  very  flat,  very 
uninteresting.  But  Louis  led  the  way  through  a  swing 
door  to  a  staircase,  and  then,  pushing  his  way  through 
some  curtains,  along  a  short  passage  to  another  door, 
against  which  he  softly  knocked  with  his  knuckles.  It 
was  opened  at  once,  and  a  commissionnaire  stood  gazing 
stolidly  out  at  us,  a  commissionnaire  in  the  usual  sort  of 
uniform,  but  one  of  the  most  powerful-looking  men  whom 
I  had  ever  seen  in  my  life. 

"There  are  no  tables,  monsieur,  in  the  restaurant," 
he  said  at  once.  "There  is  no  place  at  all." 

Louis  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a  moment.  It  seemed 
to  me  that,  although  I  was  unable  to  discern  anything  of 
the  sort,  some  sign  must  have  passed  between  them.  At 


16  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

any  rate,'  without  any  protest  or  speech  of  any  sort  from 
Louis  the  commissionnaire  saluted  and  stood  back. 

"But  your  friend,  monsieur?"   he  asked. 

"It  will  be  arranged,"  Louis  answered,  in  a  low  tone. 
"We  shall  speak  to  Monsieur  Carvin." 

We  were  in  a  dark  sort  of  entresol,  and  at  that  moment 
a  further  door  was  opened,  and  one  caught  the  gleam  of 
lights  and  the  babel  of  voices.  A  man  came  out  of  the 
room  and  walked  rapidly  toward  us.  He  was  of  middle 
height,  and  dressed  in  ordinary  morning  clothes,  wearing 
a  black  tie  with  a  diamond  pin.  His  lips  were  thick.  He 
had  a  slight  tawny  moustache,  and  a  cast  in  one  eye.  He 
held  out  both  his  hands  to  Louis. 

"Dear  Louis,"  he  exclaimed,  "it  is  good  to  see  you  !" 

Louis  drew  him  to  one  side,  and  they  talked  for  a  few 
moments  in  a  rapid  undertone.  More  than  once  the 
manager  of  the  restaurant,  for  such  I  imagined  him  to  be, 
glanced  towards  me,  and  I  was  fairly  certain  that  I  formed 
the  subject  of  their  conversation.  When  it  was  finished 
Louis  beckoned,  and  we  all  three  turned  towards  the  door 
together,  Louis  in  the  centre. 

"This,"  he  said  to  me,  "is  Monsieur  Carvin,  the  man- 
ager of  the  Cafe  des  Deux  fipingles.  He  has  been  explain- 
ing to  me  how  difficult  it  is  to  find  even  a  corner  in  his 
restaurant,  but  there  will  be  a  small  table  for  us." 

Monsieur  Carvin  bowed. 

"For  any  friend  of  Louis,"  he  said,  "one  would  do 
much.  But  indeed,  monsieur,  people  seem  to  find  my 
little  restaurant  interesting,  and  it  is,  alas,  so  very  small." 

We  entered  the  room  almost  as  he  spoke.  It  was  larger 
than  I  had  expected  to  find  it,  and  the  style  of  its  decora- 
tions and  general  appearance  were  absolutely  different 
from  the  cafe  below.  The  coloring  was  a  little  sombre 


DELORA  17 

for  a  French  restaurant,  and  the  illuminations  a  little  less 
vivid.  The  walls,  however,  were  panelled  with  what 
seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  dark  mahogany,  and  on  the  ceiling 
was  painted  a  great  allegorical  picture,  the  nature  of  which 
I  could  not  at  first  surmise.  The  guests,  of  whom  the 
room  was  almost  full,  were  all  well-dressed  and  appar- 
ently of  the  smart  world.  The  tourist  element  was  lacking. 
There  were  a  few  men  there  in  morning  clothes,  but  these 
were  dressed  with  the  rigid  exactness  of  the  Frenchman, 
who  often,  from  choice,  affects  this  style  of  toilet.  From 
the  first  I  felt  that  the  place  possessed  an  atmosphere. 
I  could  not  describe  it,  but,  quite  apart  from  Louis'  few 
words  concerning  it,  I  knew  that  it  had  a  clientele  of  its 
own,  and  that  within  its  four  walls  were  gathered  to- 
gether people  who  were  in  some  way  different  from  the 
butterfly  crowd  who  haunt  the  night  cafes  in  Paris.  Mon- 
sieur Carvin  himself  led  us  to  a  small  table  against  the 
wall,  and  not  far  inside  the  room.  The  vestiaire  relieved 
us  of  our  coats  and  hats.  A  suave  maitre  d'hotel  bent 
over  us  with  suggestions  for  supper,  and  an  attendant 
sommelier  waited  by  his  side.  Monsieur  Carvin  waved 
them  away. 

"The  gentlemen  have  probably  supped,"  he  remarked. 
"A  bottle  of  the  Pommery,  Gout  Anglais,  and  some  bis- 
cuits. Is  that  right,  Louis?" 

We  both  hastened  to  express  our  approval.  Monsieur 
Carvin  was  called  by  some  one  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room  and  hurried  away.  Louis  turned  to  me.  There 
was  a  curious  expression  in  his  eyes. 

"You  are  disappointed  ?"  he  asked.  "You  see  nothing 
here  different  ?  It  is  all  the  same  to  you." 

"Not  in  the  least,"  I  answered.  "For  one  thing,  it 
seems  strange  to  find  a  restaurant  de  luxe  up  here,  when 


18  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

below  there  is  only  a  cafe  of  the  worst.    Are  they  of  the 
same  management  ?  " 

"Up  here,"  he  said,  "come  the  masters,  and  down 
there  the  servants.  Look  around  at  these  people,  mon- 
sieur. Look  around  carefully.  Tell  me  whether  you  do 
not  see  something  different  here  from  the  other  places." 

I  followed  Louis'  advice.  I  looked  around  at  the  people 
with  an  interest  which  grew  rather  than  abated,  and  for 
which  I  could  not  at  first  account.  Soon,  however,  I 
began  to  realize  that  although  this  was,  at  first  appearance, 
merely  a  crowd  of  fashionably  dressed  men  and  women, 
yet  they  differed  from  the  ordinary  restaurant  crowd  in 
that  there  was  something  a  little  out  of  the  common  in  the 
faces  of  nearly  every  one  of  them.  The  loiterers  through 
life  seemed  absent.  These  people  were  relaxing  freely 
enough,  —  laughing,  talking,  and  making  love,  —  but  be- 
hind it  all  there  seemed  a  note  of  seriousness,  an  intentness 
in  their  faces  which  seemed  to  speak  of  a  career,  of  things 
to  be  done  in  the  future,  or  something  accomplished  in  the 
past.  The  woman  who  sat  at  the  opposite  table  to  me  — 
tall,  with  yellow  hair,  and  face  as  pale  as  alabaster  —  was 
a  striking  personality  anywhere.  Her  blue  eyes  were 
deep-set,  and  she  seemed  to  have  made  no  effort  to  con- 
ceal the  dark  rings  underneath,  which  only  increased  their 
luminosity.  A  magnificent  string  of  turquoises  hung  from 
her  bare  neck,  a  curious  star  shone  in  her  hair.  Her  dress 
was  of  the  newest  mode.  Her  voice,  languid  but  elegant, 
had  in  it  that  hidden  quality  which  makes  it  one  of  a 
woman's  most  attractive  gifts.  By  her  side  was  a  great 
black-rnoustached  giant,  a  pale-faced  man,  with  little 
puffs  of  flesh  underneath  his  eyes,  whose  dress  was  a  little 
too  perfect  and  his  jewelry  a  little  too  obvious. 

"Tell  me,"  I  asked,  "who  is  that  man?" 


DELORA  19 

Louis  leaned  towards  me,  and  his  voice  sunk  to  the 
merest  whisper. 

"That,  monsieur,"  said  he,  "is  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant persons  in  the  room.  He  is  the  man  whom  they 
call  the  uncrowned  king.  He  was  a  saddler  once  by 
profession.  Look  at  him  now." 

"How  has  he  made  his  money?"  I  asked. 

Louis  smiled  —  a  queer  little  contraction  of  his  thin 
lips. 

"It  is  not  wise,"  he  said,  "to  ask  that  question  of  any 
whom  you  meet  here.  Henri  Bartot  was  one  of  the  wildest 
youths  in  Paris.  It  was  he  who  started  the  first  band  of 
thieves,  from  which  developed  the  present  horde  of 
apaches." 

"And  now?"  I  asked. 

"He  is  their  unrecognized,  unspoken-of  leader,"  Louis 
whispered.  "The  man  who  offends  him  to-night  would 
be  lucky  to  find  himself  alive  to-morrow." 

I  looked  across  the  room  curiously.  There  was  not  a 
single  redeeming  feature  in  the  man's  face  except,  perhaps, 
the  suggestion  of  brute,  passionate  force  which  still  lin- 
gered about  his  thick,  straight  lips  and  heavy  jaw.  The 
woman  by  his  side  seemed  incomprehensible.  I  saw  now 
that  she  had  eyes  of  turquoise  blue  and  a  complexion 
almost  waxenlike.  She  lifted  her  arms,  and  I  saw  that 
they,  too,  were  covered  with  bracelets  of  light-blue  stones. 
Louis,  following  my  eyes,  touched  me  on  the  arm. 

"Don't  look  at  her,"  he  said  warningly.  "She  belongs 
to  him  —  Bartot.  It  is  not  safe  to  flirt  with  her  even  at 
this  distance." 

I  laughed  softly  and  sipped  my  wine. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "it  is  time  you  got  back  to  London. 
You  are  living  here  in  tco  imaginative  an  atmosphere." 


20  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  speak  the  truth,  monsieur,"  he  answered  grimly. 
"She,  too,  —  she  is  not  safe.  She  finds  pleasure  in  mak- 
ing fools  of  men.  The  suffering  which  comes  to  them 
appeals  to  her  vanity.  There  was  a  young  Englishman 
once,  he  sent  a  note  to  her  —  not  here,  but  at  the  Cafe  de 
Paris  —  at  luncheon  tune  one  morning.  He  was  to  have 
left  Paris  the  next  day.  He  did  not  leave.  He  has  never 
been  heard  of  since  ! " 

There  was  no  doubt  that  Louis  himself,  at  any  rate, 
believed  what  he  was  saying.  I  looked  awTay  from  the 
young  lady  a  little  reluctantly.  As  though  she  understood 
Louis'  warning,  her  lips  parted  for  a  moment  in  a  faint, 
contemptuous  smile.  She  leaned  over  and  touched  the 
man  Bartot  on  the  shoulder  and  whispered  something  in 
his  ear.  When  I  next  looked  in  their  direction  I  found 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  mine  in  a  steady,  malignant  stare. 

"Monsieur  will  remember,"  Louis  whispered  in  my 
ear  softly,  "that  I  am  responsible  for  his  coming  here." 

"Of  course,"  I  answered  reassuringly.  "I  have  not 
the  slightest  wish  to  run  up  against  any  of  these  people. 
I  will  not  look  at  them  any  more.  She  knew  what  she  was 
doing,  though,  Louis,  when  she  hung  blue  stones  about  her 
with  eyes  like  that,  eh?" 

"She  is  beautiful,"  Louis  admitted.  "There  are  very 
many  who  admire  her.  But  after  all,  what  is  the  use  ? 
One  has  little  pleasure  of  the  things  which  one  may  not 
touch." 

We  were  silent  for  several  minutes.  Suddenly  my 
fingers  gripped  Louis'  arm.  Had  I  been  blind  all  this 
time  that  they  had  escaped  my  notice  ?  Then  I  saw  that 
they  were  sitting  at  an  extra  table  which  had  been  hastily 
arranged,  and  I  knew  that  they  could  have  cnly  just 
arrived. 


DELORA  21 

"Tell  me,  Louis,"  I  demanded  eagerly,  -'who  are  those 
two  at  the  small  round  table  on  the  left,  —  the  two  who 
seem  to  have  just  come  in,  —  a  man  and  a  girl  ?" 

Louis  turned  his  head,  and  I  saw  his  lips  come  together 
—  saw  the  quick  change  in  his  face  from  indifference  to 
seriousness.  For  some  reason  or  other  my  interest  in 
these  two  seemed  to  be  a  matter  of  some  import  to  him. 

"Why  does  monsieur  ask?"  he  said. 

"The  idlest  curiosity,"  I  assured  him.  "I  know  nothing 
about  them  except  that  they  are  distinctive,  and  one 
cannot  fail,  of  course,  to  admire  the  young  lady." 

"You  have  seen  them  often?"  Louis  asked,  hi  a  low 
tone. 

"I  told  you,  Louis,"  I  answered,  "that  my  mission  in 
Paris  is  of  the  nature  of  a  search.  For  ten  days  I  have 
haunted  all  the  places  where  one  goes,  —  the  Race  Course, 
the  Bois,  the  Armenonville  and  Pre  Catelan,  the  Rue  de 
la  Paix,  the  theatres.  I  have  seen  them  nearly  every  day. 
To-night  they  were  at  the  Opera." 

"You  know  nothing  of  them  beyond  that?"  Louis 
persisted. 

"Nothing  whatever,"  I  declared.  "I  am  not  a  boule- 
varder,  Louis,"  I  continued  slowly,  "and  hi  England, 
you  know,  it  is  not  the  custom  to  stare  at  women  as  these 
Frenchmen  seem  to  do  with  impunity.  But  I  must  con- 
fess that  I  have  watched  that  girl." 

"You  find  her  attractive,"  murmured  Louis, 

"I  find  her  delightful,"  I  assented,  "only  she  seems 
scarcely  old  enough  to  be  about  in  such  places  as  these." 

"The  man,"  Louis  said  slowly,  "is  a  Brazilian.  His 
name  is  Delora." 

"Does  he  live  in  Paris?"  I  asked. 

"By  no  means,"  Louis  answered.     "He  is  a  very  rich 


22  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

coffee-planter,  and  has  immense  estates  somewhere  in  his 
own  country.  He  comes  over  here  every  year  to  sell  his 
produce  on  the  London  market.  I  believe  that  he  is  on  his 
way  there  now." 

"And  the  girl?"  I  asked. 

"She  is  his  niece,"  Louis  answered.  "She  has  been 
brought  up  in  France  at  a  convent  somewhere  in  the 
south,  I  believe.  I  think  I  heard  that  this  time  she  was 
to  return  to  Brazil  with  her  uncle." 

"I  wonder,"  I  asked,  "if  she  is  going  to  London  with 
him?" 

"Probably,"  Louis  answered,  "and  if  monsieur  con- 
tinues to  patronize  me,"  he  continued,  "he  will  certainly 
see  more  of  them,  for  Monsieur  Delora  is  a  client  who  is 
always  faithful  to  me." 

Notwithstanding  its  somewhat  subdued  air,  there  was 
all  the  time  going  on  around  us  a  cheerful  murmur  of  con- 
versation, the  popping  of  corks,  the  laughter  of  women, 
the  hurrying  to  and  fro  of  waiters,  —  all  the  pleasant  dis- 
turbance of  an  ordinary  restaurant  at  the  most  festive 
hour  of  the  night.  But  there  came,  just  at  this  moment,  a 
curious  interruption,  an  interruption  curious  not  only  on 
its  own  account,  but  on  account  of  the  effect  which  it  pro- 
duced. From  somewhere  in  the  centre  of  the  room  there 
commenced  ringing,  softly  at  first,  and  afterwards  with  a 
greater  volume,  a  gong,  something  like  the  siren  of  a  motor- 
car, but  much  softer  and  more  musical.  Instantly  a  dead 
silence  seemed  to  fall  upon  the  place.  Conversation  was 
broken  off,  laughter  was  checked,  even  the  waiters  stood 
still  in  their  places.  The  eyes  of  ever}7  one  seemed  turned 
towards  the  door.  One  or  two  of  the  men  rose,  and  in  the 
faces  of  these  was  manifest  a  sudden  expression  in  which 
was  present  more  or  less  of  absolute  terror.  Bartot  for  a 


DELORA  23 

moment  shrank  back  in  his  chair  as  though  he  had  been 
struck,  only  to  recover  himself  the  next  second;  and  the 
lady  with  the  turquoises  bent  over  and  whispered  in  his 
ear.  One  person  only  left  his  place,  —  a  young  man  who 
had  been  sitting  at  a  table  at  the  other  end  of  the  room 
with  one  of  the  gayest  parties.  At  the  very  first  note  of 
alarm  he  had  sprung  to  his  feet.  A  few  seconds  later, 
with  swift,  silent  movements  and  face  as  pale  as  a  ghost, 
he  had  vanished  into  the  little  service  room  from  which 
the  waiters  issued  and  returned.  With  his  disappearance 
the  curious  spell  which  seemed  to  have  fallen  upon  these 
other  people  passed  away.  The  waiters  resumed  their 
tasks.  The  room  was  once  more  hilariously  gay.  Upon 
the  threshold  a  newcomer  was  standing,  a  tall  man  in 
correct  morning  dress,  with  a  short  gray  beard  and  a 
tiny  red  ribbon  in  his  button-hole.  He  stood  there  smiling 
slightly  —  an  unobtrusive  entrance,  such  as  might  have 
befitted  any  habitue  of  the  place.  Yet  all  the  time  his  eyes 
were  travelling  restlessly  up  and  down  the  room.  As  he 
stood  there,  one  could  fancy  there  was  not  a  face  into 
which  he  did  not  look  during  those  few  minutes. 


CHAPTER  IV 

DANGEROUS   PLAT 

I  LEANED  towards  Louis,  but  he  anticipated  my  question. 
His  hand  had  caught  my  wrist  and  was  pinning  it  down 
to  the  table. 

"Wait!"  he  muttered  —  "wait!  You  perceive  that 
we  are  drinking  wine  of  the  vintage  of  '98.  I  will  tell  you 
of  my  trip  to  the  vineyards.  Do  not  look  at  that  man  as 
though  his  appearance  was  anything  remarkable.  You 
are  not  an  habitue  here,  and  he  will  take  notice  of 

you." 

As  one  who  speaks  upon  the  subject  most  interesting 
to  him,  Louis,  with  the  gestures  and  swift,  nervous  dic- 
tion of  his  race,  talked  to  me  of  the  vineyards  and  the 
cellars  of  the  famous  champagne  house  whose  wine  we 
were  drinking.  I  did  my  best  to  listen  intelligently,  but 
every  moment  I  found  my  eyes  straying  towards  this  new 
arrival,  now  deep  in  apparently  pleasant  conversation 
with  Monsieur  Carvin. 

The  newcomer  had  the  air  of  one  who  has  looked  in 
to  smile  around  at  his  acquaintances  and  pass  on.  He 
accepted  a  cigarette  from  Carvin,  but  he  did  not  sit  down, 
and  I  saw  him  smile  a  polite  refusal  as  a  small  table  was 
pointed  out  to  him.  He  strolled  a  little  into  the  place  and 
he  bowed  pleasantly  to  several  with  whom  he  seemed  to 
be  acquainted,  amongst  whom  was  the  man  Bartot.  He 
waved  his  hand  to  others  further  down  the  room.  His 
circle  of  acquaintances,  indeed,  seemed  unlimited.  Then, 


DANGEROUS    PLAY  25 

with  a  long  hand-shake  and  some  parting  jest,  he  took 
leave  of  Monsieur  Carvin  and  disappeared.  Somehow 
or  other  one  seemed  to  feel  the  breath  of  relief  which 
went  shivering  through  the  room  as  he  departed.  Louis 
answered  then  my  unspoken  question. 

"That,"  he  said,  "is  a  very  great  man.  His  name  is 
Monsieur  Myers." 

"The  head  of  the  police!"  I  exclaimed. 

Louis  nodded. 

"The  most  famous,"  he  said,  "whom  France  has  ever 
possessed.  Monsieur  Myers  is  absolutely  marvellous," 
he  declared.  "The  man  has  genius,  —  genius  as  well  as 
executive  ability.  It  is  a  terrible  war  that  goes  on  between 
him  and  the  haute  ecole  of  crime  hi  this  country." 

"Tell  me,  Louis,"  I  asked,  "is  Monsieur  Myers'  visit 
here  to-night  professional?" 

"Monsieur  has  observation,"  Louis  answered.  "Why 
not?" 

"You  mean,"  I  asked,  "that  there  are  criminals  —  peo- 
ple under  suspicion  — " 

"I  mean,"  Louis  interrupted,  "that  in  this  room,  at 
the  present  moment,  are  some  of  the  most  famous  criminals 
in  the  world." 

A  question  half  framed  died  away  upon  my  lips.  Louis, 
however,  divined  it. 

"You  were  about  to  ask,"  he  said,  "how  I  obtained  my 
entry  here.  Monsieur,  one  had  better  not  ask.  It  is  one 
thing  to  be  a  thief.  It  is  quite  another  to  see  something 
of  the  wonderful  life  which  those  live  who  are  at  war  with 
society." 

I  looked  around  the  room  once  more.  Again  I  realized 
the  difference  between  this  gathering  of  well-dressed  men 
and  women  and  any  similar  gathering  which  I  had  seen 


26  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

in  Paris.  The  faces  of  all  somehow  lacked  that  tiredness 
of  expression  which  seems  to  be  the  heritage  of  those  who 
drink  the  cup  of  pleasure  without  spice,  simply  because 
the  hand  of  Fate  presses  it  to  their  lips.  These  people 
had  found  something  else.  Were  they  not,  after  all,  a 
little  to  be  envied  ?  They  must  know  what  it  was  to  feel 
the  throb  of  life,  to  test  the  true  flavor  of  its  luxuries  when 
there  was  no  certainty  of  the  morrow.  I  felt  the  fascina- 
tion, felt  it  almost  in  my  blood,  as  I  looked  around. 

"You  could  not  specify,  I  suppose?"  I  said  to  Louis. 

"How  could  monsieur  ask  it?"  he  replied,  a  little  re- 
proachfully. "You  will  be  one  of  the  only  people  who  do 
not  belong  who  have  been  admitted  here,  and  you  will 
notice,"  he  continued,  "that  I  have  asked  for  no  pledge 
—  I  rely  simply  upon  the  honor  of  monsieur." 

I  nodded. 

"There  is  crime  and  crime,  Louis,"  said  I.  "I  have 
never  been  able  to  believe  myself  that  it  is  the  same  thing 
to  rob  the  widow  and  the  millionaire.  I  know  that  I  must 
not  ask  you  any  questions,"  I  continued,  "but  the  girl 
with  Delora,  —  the  man  whom  you  call  Delora,  —  she,  at 
least,  is  innocent  of  any  knowledge  of  these  things  ? " 

Louis  smiled. 

"Monsieur  is  susceptible,"  he  remarked.  "I  cannot 
answer  that  question.  Mademoiselle  is  a  stranger.  She 
is  but  a  child." 

"And  Monsieur  Delora  himself?"  I  asked.  "He 
comes  here  when  he  chooses  ?  He  is  not  merely  a  sight- 
seer ?  " 

"No,"  Louis  repeated,  "he  is  not  merely  a  sightseer!" 

"A  privileged  person,"  I  remarked. 

"He  is  a  wonderful  man,"  Louis  answered  calmly. 
"He  has  travelled  all  over  the  world.  He  knows  a  little 


DANGEROUS    PLAY  37 

of  every  capital,  of  every  side  of  life,  —  perhaps,"  he 
added,  "of  the  underneath  side." 

"His  niece  is  very  beautiful,"  I  remarked,  looking  at 
her  thoughtfully.  "It  seems  almost  a  shame,  does  it  not, 
to  bring  her  into  such  a  place  as  this  ?" 

Louis  smiled. 

"If  she  were  going  to  stay  in  Paris  —  yes!"  he  said. 
"If  she  is  really  going  to  Brazil,  it  matters  little  what  she 
does.  A  Parisian,  of  course,  would  never  bring  his  woman- 
kind here." 

"She  is  very  beautiful,"  I  remarked.  "Yes,  I  agree 
with  you,  Louis.  It  is  no  place  for  girls  of  her  age." 

Louis  smiled. 

"Monsieur  may  make  her  acquaintance  some  day,"  he 
remarked.  "Monsieur  Delora  is  on  his  way  to  England." 

"She  is  a  safer  person  to  admire,"  I  remarked,  "than 
the  lady  opposite?" 

"Much,"  Louis  answered  emphatically.  "Monsieur 
has  already,"  he  whispered,  "been  a  little  indiscreet.  The 
lady  of  the  turquoises  has  spoken  once  or  twice  to  Bartot 
and  looked  this  way.  I  feel  sure  that  it  was  of  you  she 
spoke.  See  how  she  continually  looks  over  the  top  of  her  fan 
at  this  table.  Monsieur  would  do  well  to  take  no  notice." 

I  laughed.  I  was  thirty  years  old,  and  the  love  of  ad- 
venture was  always  in  my  blood.  For  the  first  time  for 
many  days  the  weariness  seemed  to  have  passed  away. 
My  heart  was  beating.  I  was  ready  for  any  enterprise. 

"Do  not  be  afraid,  Louis,"  I  said.  "I  shall  come  to  no 
harm.  If  mademoiselle  looks  at  me,  it  is  not  gallant  to 
look  away." 

Louis'  face  was  puckered  up  with  anxiety.  He  saw, 
too,  what  I  had  seen.  Bartot  had  walked  to  the  other 
end  of  the  room  to  speak  to  some  friends.  The  girl  had 


28  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

taken  a  gold  and  jewelled  pencil  from  the  mass  of  costly 
trifles  which  lay  with  her  purse  upon  the  table,  and  was 
writing  on  a  piece  of  paper  which  the  waiter  had  brought. 
I  could  see  her  delicately  manicured  fingers,  the  blue 
veins  at  the  back  of  her  hands,  as  she  wrote,  slowly  and 
apparently  without  hesitation.  Both  Louis  and  myself 
watched  the  writing  of  that  note  as  though  Fate  itself  were 
guiding  the  pencil. 

"It  is  for  you,"  Louis  whispered  in  my  ear.  "Take  no 
notice.  It  would  be  madness  even  to  look  at  her." 

"Louis!"  I  exclaimed  protestingly. 

"I  mean  what  I  say,  monsieur,"  Louis  declared,  lean- 
ing toward  me,  and  speaking  in  a  low,  earnest  whisper. 
"The  cafe  below,  the  streets  throughout  this  region,  are 
peopled  by  his  creatures.  In  an  hour  he  could  lead  an 
army  which  would  defy  the  whole  of  the  gendarmes  in 
Paris.  This  quarter  of  the  city  is  his  absolutely  to  do  with 
what  he  wills.  Do  you  believe  that  you  would  have  a 
chance  if  he  thought  that  she  had  looked  twice  at  you,  — 
she  —  Susette  —  the  only  woman  who  has  ever  led  him  ? 
I  tell  you  that  he  is  mad  with  love  and  jealousy  for  her. 
The  whole  world  knows  of  it." 

"My  dear  Louis,"  I  said,  "you  know  me  only  in  London, 
where  I  come  and  sit  hi  your  restaurant  and  eat  and  drink 
there.  To  you  I  am  simply  like  all  those  others  who  come 
to  you  day  by  day,  —  idlers  and  pleasure  seekers.  Let  me 
assure  you,  Louis,  that  there  are  other  things  in  my  life. 
Just  now  I  should  welcome  anything  in  the  world  which 
meant  adventure,  which  could  teach  me  to  forget." 

"But  monsieur  need  not  seek  the  suicide,"  Louis  said. 
"There  are  hundreds  of  adventures  to  be  had  without 
that." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 


DANGEROUS    PLAY  29 

"If  mademoiselle  should  send  me  the  note,"  I  said, 
"surely  it  would  not  be  gallant  of  me  to  refuse  to  accept  it." 

"There  are  other  ways  of  seeking  adventures,"  Louis 
said,  "than  by  ending  one's  days  in  the  Seine." 

The  girl  by  this  time  had  finished  her  note  and  rolled  it 
up.  She  looked  behind  her  to  the  other  end  of  the  room, 
where  only  Bartot's  broad  back  was  visible.  Then  she 
raised  her  eyes  to  mine,  —  turquoise  blue  as  the  color  of 
her  gown,  —  and  very  faintly  but  very  deliberately  she 
smiled.  I  was  not  in  the  least  in  love  with  her.  The  affair 
to  me  was  simply  interesting  because  it  promised  a  mo- 
ment's distraction.  But,  nevertheless,  as  she  smiled  I  felt 
my  heart  beat  faster,  and  I  reached  a  little  eagerly  forward 
as  though  for  the  note.  She  called  a  waiter  to  her  side.  I 
watched  her  whisper  to  him ;  I  watched  his  expression  — 
anxious  and  perturbed  at  first,  doubtful,  even,  after  her 
reassuring  words.  He  looked  down  the  room  to  where 
Bartot  was  standing.  It  seemed  to  me,  even  then,  that  he 
ventured  to  protest,  but  mademoiselle  frowned  and  spoke 
to  him  sharply.  He  caught  up  a  wine  list  and  came  to  our 
table.  Once  more,  before  he  spoke,  he  looked  behind  to 
where  Bartot's  back  was  still  turned. 

"For  monsieur,"  he  whispered,  setting  the  wine  list 
upon  the  table,  and  under  it  the  note. 

I  nodded,  and  he  hastened  away.  At  that  moment 
Bartot  turned  and  came  down  the  room.  As  he  approached 
he  looked  at  me  once  more,  as  though,  for  some  reason  or 
other,  he  was  more  than  ordinarily  interested  in  my  pres- 
ence. It  may  have  been  my  fancy,  but  I  thought,  also, 
that  he  looked  at  the  wine  card  stretched  out  before  me. 

"Be  careful !"  Louis  whispered.  "Be  careful!  And, 
for  God's  sake,  destroy  that  note!" 

I  laughed,  and  as  Bartot  was  compelled  to  turn  his  back 


30  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

to  me  to  regain  his  seat,  this  time  at  the  table  with  his  com- 
panion, I  raised  my  glass,  looking  her  full  in  the  face,  and 
drank.  Then  I  slipped  the  note  from  underneath  the  wine 
card  into  my  pocket.  She  made  the  slightest  of  signs,  but  I 
understood.  I  was  not  to  read  it  until  I  was  alone. 

"Go  outside,"  Louis  whispered  to  me.  "Read  your 
letter  and  get  rid  of  it." 

I  obeyed  him.  A  watchful  waiter  pulled  the  table  away, 
and  I  walked  out  into  the  anteroom.  Here,  with  a  freshly 
lit  cigarette  in  my  mouth,  I  unclenched  my  fingers,  and 
looked  at  the  few  words  written  very  faintly,  in  long,  deli- 
cate characters,  across  the  torn  sheet  of  paper : 

Monsieur  is  in  bad  company.  It  would  be  well  for  him  to 
lunch  to-morrow  at  the  Cafe  de  Paris,  and  to  ask  for  Leon. 

That  was  all.  I  tore  it  into  small  pieces  and  returned  to 
my  seat,  altogether  puzzled.  It  seemed  to  me  that  Louis 
watched  me  with  an  incomprehensible  anxiety  as  I  re- 
sumed my  place  by  his  side. 

"If  monsieur  is  ready,"  he  suggested,  "perhaps  we  had 
better  go." 

I  rose  to  my  feet  reluctantly. 

"As  you  will,  Louis,"  I  said. 

But  the  time  for  our  departure  had  not  yet  come ! 


CHAPTER  V 

SATISFACTION 

DURING  the  whole  of  the  time  people  had  been  coming 
and  going  from  the  restaurant,  not,  perhaps,  in  a  continual 
stream,  but  still  at  fairly  regular  intervals.  It  seemed  to 
me,  who  had  watched  them  all  with  interest,  that  scarcely 
a  person  had  entered  who  was  not  worthy  of  observation. 
I  saw  faces,  it  is  true,  which  I  had  seen  before  at  the 
fashionable  haunts  of  Paris,  upon  the  polo  ground,  at 
Longchamps,  or  in  the  Bois,  yet  somehow  it  seemed  to  me 
that  they  came  to  this  place  as  different  beings.  There 
was  a  tense  look  in  their  faces,  a  look  almost  of  apprehen- 
sion, as  they  entered  and  passed  out,  —  as  of  people  who 
have  found  their  way  a  little  further  into  life  than  their 
associates.  Louis  was  right.  There  was  something  dif- 
ferent about  the  place,  something  at  which  I  could  only 
dimly  guess,  which  at  that  time  I  did  not  understand.  Only 
I  realized  that  I  watched  always  with  a  little  thrill  of 
interest  whenever  the  hurrying  forward  of  Monsieur  Car- 
vin  indicated  the  arrival  of  a  new  visitor. 

We  had  already  risen  to  go,  and  the  vestiaire  was  on  his 
way  towards  us,  bearing  my  hat  and  coat,  when  Monsieur 
Carvin,  who  had  hurried  out  a  moment  before,  reappeared, 
ushering  in  a  new  arrival.  The  events  that  followed  have 
always  seemed  a  little  confused  to  me.  My  first  thought 
was  that  this  was  indeed  a  nightmare  into  which  I  had 
wandered.  The  slight  unreality  which  had  hung  like  a 
cloud  over  the  whole  of  the  evening,  the  strangeness  of  my 


32  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

being  there  with  such  a  companion,  the  curious  atmosphere 
of  the  place,  which  so  far  had  completely  puzzled  me,  — 
these  things  may  all  have  served  to  heighten  the  illusion. 
Yet  it  seemed  to  me  then  that,  dreaming  or  waking,  this 
thing  with  which  I  was  confronted  was  the  last  impossi- 
bility. I  suppose  that  I  must  have  stared  at  him  like  some 
wild  creature,  for  the  conversation  around  us  suddenly 
^stopped.  Standing  upon  the  threshold,  looking  around 
him  with  the  happy  air  of  an  habitue,  I  saw  this  man  to 
whom  I  owed  my  presence  in  Paris,  this  man  concerning 
whom  I  had  sworn  that  if  ever  I  should  meet  him  face  to 
face  my  hand  should  be  upon  his  throat.  I  remember 
nothing  of  my  progress,  but  I  know  that  I  stood  before  him 
before  he  was  conscious  even  of  my  presence.  I  addressed 
him  by  name.  I  believe  that  even  my  voice  was  not 
upraised. 

"Tapilow!"  I  said. 

He  turned  sharply  towards  me.  I  saw  him  suddenly 
stiffen,  and  I  saw  his  right  hand  dart  as  though  by  instinct 
to  his  trousers  pocket.  But  I  was  too  quick  for  him.  The 
blood  was  surging  into  my  ears.  Nothing  in  the  whole 
room  was  visible  to  me  but  that  pale,  handsome  face  with 
the  thin  lips  and  dark,  full  eyes.  I  saw  those  eyes  contract 
as  though  my  hand  upon  his  throat  were  indeed  the  touch 
of  Death.  I  shook  him  until  his  collar  broke  away  and  his 
shirt-front  flew  open,  shook  him  until  from  his  limp  body 
there  seemed  no  longer  any  shadow  of  resistance.  Then  I 
flung  him  a  little  away  from  me,  watching  all  the  time, 
though,  to  see  that  his  hand  did  not  move  towards  that 
pocket. 

"Tapilow,"  I  cried,  "defend  yourself,  you  coward! 
Do  you  want  me  to  strangle  you  where  you  stand?" 

He  came  for  me  then  with  the  frenzy  of  a  man  who  is 


SATISFACTION  33 

in  a  desperate  strait.  He  was  as  strong  as  I,  and  he  had 
the  advantage  in  height.  For  a  moment  I  was  borne  back. 
He  struck  me  heavily  upon  the  face,  and  I  made  no  attempt 
to  defend  myself.  I  waited  my  time.  When  it  came,  I 
dealt  him  such  a  blow  that  he  reeled  away,  and  before 
he  could  recover  I  took  him  by  the  back  of  his  neck  and 
flung  him  from  me  across  the  table  which  our  struggle 
had  already  half  upset.  He  lay  there,  a  shapeless  mass, 
surrounded  by  broken  glass,  streaming  wine,  a  little  heap 
of  flowers  from  the  overturned  vase.  Then  the  hubbub 
of  the  room  was  suddenly  stilled.  A  dozen  hands  were 
laid  upon  me. 

"For  God's  sake,  monsieur!"   I  heard  Louis  cry. 

Monsieur  Carvin  led  me  away.  I  looked  back  once 
more  at  the  prostrate  figure  and  then  followed  him. 

"This  is  not  my  fault,"  I  said  calmly.  "He  knew  quite 
well  that  it  was  bound  to  happen.  I  told  him  that  wherever 
we  next  met,  whether  it  was  in  a  street  or  a  drawing-room, 
or  any  place  whatsoever  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  I  would 
deal  out  his  punishment  with  my  own  hands,  even  though 
it  should  spell  death.  Perhaps,"  I  continued,  "you  would 
like  to  send  for  the  police.  You  can  have  my  card,  if  you 
like." 

"We  do  not  send  for  the  police  here,"  Monsieur  Carvin 
said  hoarsely.  "Louis  will  take  you  away  at  once. 
Where  do  you  stay  ?" 

"At  the  Ritz,"  I  answered. 

"Keep  quiet  to-morrow!"  he  exclaimed.  "Louis  will 
come  to  you.  This  way." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders.  At  that  moment  it  mattered 
little  to  me  whether  I  paid  the  penalty  for  what  had  hap- 
pened or  not.  I  even  looked  back  for  a  last  time  into 
the  restaurant.  I  saw  the  strained,  eager  faces  of  the 


34  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

people  bent  forward  to  watch  me.  Some  of  the  men  had 
left  their  seats  and  come  out  into  the  body  of  the  hall  to 
get  a  better  view.  The  man  Delora  was  among  them. 
The  girl  was  leaning  forward  in  her  place,  with  her  fingers 
upon  the  table,  and  her  dark  eyes  riveted  writh  horrible 
intensity  upon  the  fallen  figure.  I  saw  mademoiselle  — 
the  turquoise-covered  friend  of  Bartot.  She,  too,  was  lean- 
ing forward,  but  her  eyes  ignored  the  man  upon  the  floor, 
and  were  seeking  to  meet  mine.  There  was  something  un- 
real about  the  whole  scene,  something  which  I  was  never 
able  afterwards  to  focus  absolutely  in  my  mind  as  a  whole, 
although  disjointed  parts  of  it  were  always  present  in  my 
thoughts.  But  I  know  that  as  I  looked  back  she  rose  a 
little  to  her  feet  and  leaned  over  the  table,  and  heedless  of 
Bartot,  who  was  now  by  her  side,  she  waved  her  hand 
almost  as  though  in  approbation.  I  was  writhin  a  few  feet 
of  her,  upon  the  threshold  of  the  door,  and  I  heard  her 
words,  spoken,  perhaps,  to  her  companion,  — 

"It  is  so  that  men  should  deal  with  their  enemies  !" 

A  moment  later,  Louis  and  I  were  driving  through  the 
streets  toward  my  hotel.  It  was  already  light,  and  we 
passed  a  great  train  of  market  wagons  coming  in  from  the 
country.  Along  the  Boulevard,  into  wrhich  we  turned, 
was  sprinkled  a  curious  medley  of  wastrels  of  the  night, 
and  men  and  women  on  their  way  to  work.  It  had  been 
raining  a  little  time  before,  but  as  we  turned  to  descend 
the  hill  a  weak  sunshine  flickered  out  from  behind  the 
clouds. 

"It  is  later  than  I  thought,"  I  remarked  calmly. 

"It  is  half-past  five  o'clock,"  answered  Louis. 

He  accompanied  me  all  the  way  to  the  hotel.  He  asked 
for  no  explanation,  nor  did  I  volunteer  any.  As  we  drove 
into  the  Place  Vendome,  however,  he  leaned  towards  me. 


SATISFACTION  35 

"Monsieur  is  aware,"  he  said,  "that  he  has  run  a  great 
risk  to-night?" 

"Very  likely,"  I  answered,  "but,  Louis,  there  are  some 
things  which  one  is  forced  to  do,  whatever  the  risk  may  be. 
This  was  one  of  them." 

"You  have  courage,"  Louis  whispered.  "Let  me  tell 
you  this.  There  were  men  there  to-night,  men  on  every 
side  of  you,  to  whom  courage  is  as  the  breath  of  life.  They 
have  seen  a  man  whom  nobody  loved  treated  as  he  prob- 
ably deserved.  Let  me  tell  you  that  there  is  no  place  in  the 
world  where  you  could  have  struck  so  safely  as  to-night. 
Remain  in  the  hotel  to-morrow  until  you  hear  from  some 
of  us.  I  may  not  promise  too  much,  but  I  think  —  I 
believe  —  that  we  can  save  you." 

At  that  moment  Louis'  words  meant  little  to  me.  I  was 
still  under  the  spell  of  those  few  wonderful  moments,  still 
mad  with  the  joy  of  having  taken  the  vengeance  for  which 
every  nerve  in  my  body  had  craved.  It  was  not  until  after- 
wards that  their  practical  import  came  home  to  me. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AN   INFORMAL   TRIBUNAL 

I  WAS  awakened  about  midday  by  the  valet  de  chambre9 
who  informed  me  that  a  gentleman  was  waiting  below  to 
see  me  —  a  gentleman  who  had  given  the  name  of  Mon- 
sieur Louis.  I  ordered  him  to  prepare  my  bath  and  bring 
my  coffee.  When  Louis  was  shown  upstairs  I  was  seated 
on  the  edge  of  my  bed  in  my  dressing-gown,  smoking  my 
first  cigarette. 

Louis  had  the  appearance  of  a  man  who  had  not  slept. 
As  for  myself,  I  had  never  opened  my  eyes  from  the  mo- 
ment when  my  head  had  touched  the  pillow.  I  had  no 
nerves,  and  I  had  done  nothing  which  I  regretted.  I 
fancy,  therefore,  that  my  general  appearance  and  recep- 
tion of  him  somewhat  astonished  my  early  visitor.  He 
seemed,  indeed,  to  take  my  nonchalance  almost  as  an 
affront,  and  he  proceeded  at  once  'o  try  and  disturb  it. 

"Monsieur  was  expecting,  perhaps,  another  sort  of 
visitor?"  he  asked. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  really  had  n't  thought  about  it,"  I  said.  "After  what 
you  told  me  last  night  I  have  been  feeling  quite  com- 
fortable." 

"Do  you  know  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  Monsieur 
Tapilow  will  live  ?"  Louis  asked. 

"It  was  the  just  payment  of  a  just  debt,"  I  answered. 

"The  law,"  he  objected,  "does  not  permit  such  ad- 
justments." 


AN    INFORMAL    TRIBUNAL  37 

"The  law,"  I  answered,  "can  do  what  it  pleases 
with  me." 

Louis  regarded  me  steadily  for  a  moment  or  two,  and 
I  fancied  that  there  was  something  of  that  admiration 
in  his  gaze  which  a  cautious  man  sometimes  feels  for  the 
foolhardy. 

"Monsieur  has  slept  well?"  he  asked. 

"Excellently,"  I  answered. 

He  glanced  at  the  watch  which  he  had  taken  from  his 
wraistcoat  pocket. 

"In  twenty  minutes,"  he  announced,  "we  must  be  at 
the  Cafe  Normandy." 

I  raised  my  eyebrows. 

"Indeed  !"  I  said  dryly.    "I  don't  exactly  follow  you." 

Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  "it  is  no  time,  this,  for  the  choice 
of  words.  There  is  a  man  who  lies  very  near  to  death  up 
there  in  the  Cafe  des  Deux  Epingles,  and  it  must  be  de- 
cided within  the  next  few  hours  what  is  to  be  done  with 
him." 

"I  am  not  sure  that  I  understand,  Louis,"  I  said, 
lighting  a  cigarette. 

"You  will  understand  at  the  Cafe  Normandy  in  half  an 
hour's  time,"  Louis  answered.  "In  the  meanwhile,  have 
you  a  servant  ?  If  not,  summon  the  valet  de  chambre. 
You  must  dress  quickly.  It  is  important,  this." 

"I  will  dress  in  ten  minutes,"  I  replied,  "but  I  must 
shave  before  I  go  out.  That  will  take  me  another  ten.  In 
the  meantime,  perhaps  you  will  kindly  tell  me  what  it 
all  means?" 

"What  it  all  means!"  Louis  repeated,  with  upraised 
hands.  "Is  it  not  clear?  Have  you  forgotten  what  hap- 
pened only  a  few  hours  ago  ?  It  rests  with  one  or  two 


38  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

people  as  to  whether  you  shall  be  given  up  to  the  police 
for  what  you  did  last  night,  —  does  monsieur  understand 
that?  — the  police!" 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  Louis,"  I  answered,  "I  never 
dreamed  of  escaping  from  them.  It  did  not  seem 
possible." 

"In  which  case?"  Louis  asked  slowly. 

I  pointed  to  the  revolver  upon  my  mantelpiece. 

"We  all,"  I  remarked,  "make  the  mistake  of  over- 
estimating the  actual  importance  of  life." 

Louis  shivered  a  little.  I  noticed  both  then  and  after- 
wards that  he  was  never  comfortable  in  the  presence  of 
firearms. 

"A  last  resource,  of  course,"  I  said,  "but  one  should 
always  be  prepared!" 

"In  this  city,"  Louis  said,  "it  is  not  as  in  London.  In 
London  there  are  no  corners  which  are  not  swept  bare  by 
your  police.  In  London,  by  this  time  you  would  have 
been  sitting  in  a  prison  cell." 

"That,"  I  remarked,  "is  doubtless  true.  So  much  the 
more  fortunate  for  me  that  I  should  have  met  Monsieur 
Tapilow  in  Paris  and  not  in  London.  But  will  you  tell 
me,  Louis,  why  you  want  me  to  go  with  you  to  the  Cafe 
Normandy,  and  how  you  think  it  will  help  me?" 

"It  would  take  too  long,"  Louis  answered.     "We  will 
talk  in  the  carriage,  perhaps.    You  must  not  delay  now  — 
not  one  moment." 

I  humored  him  by  hastening  my  preparations,  and  we 
left  the  place  together  a  few  minutes  later.  There  were 
many  things  which  I  desired  to  ask  him  with  regard  to  the 
events  of  last  night  and  the  place  to  which  he  had  taken 
me,  but  as  though  by  mutual  consent  neither  of  us  spoke 
of  these  things.  When  we  were  already,  however,  about 


AN    INFORMAL    TRIBUNAL  39 

half  way  towards  the  famous  restaurant  which  was  our 
destination  I  could  not  keep  silence  any  longer. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "tell  me  about  this  little  excursion 
of  ours.  Who  are  these  men  whom  wre  are  going  to 
meet?" 

He  turned  towards  me.  The  last  few  hours  seemed  to 
have  brought  us  into  a  greater  intimacy.  He  addressed 
me  by  name,  and  his  manner,  although  it  was  still  respect- 
ful enough,  was  somehow  altered. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "you  do  not  seem  to  ap- 
preciate the  position  in  which  you  stand.  You  are  young, 
and  life  is  hot  in  your  veins,  and  yet  to-day,  as  you  sit 
there,  your  liberty  is  forfeit,  —  perhaps  even,  if  Tapilow 
should  die,  your  life !  Have  you  ever  heard  any  stories, 
I  wonder,"  he  added,  leaning  a  little  toward  me,  "about 
French  prisons?" 

"Are  you  trying  to  frighten  me,  Louis?"  I  asked. 

"No!"  he  answered,  "but  I  want  you  to  realize  that 
you  are  in  a  very  serious  position." 

"I  know  that,"  I  answered.  "Don't  think,  Louis,"  I 
continued,  "that  what  I  did  last  night  was  the  result  of 
a  rash  impulse.  I  had  sworn  since  a  certain  day  in  the 
autumn  of  last  year  that  the  first  time  I  came  face  to  face 
with  that  man,  whether  it  was  in  the  daytime  or  the  night- 
time, in  a  friend's  house  or  on  the  street,  I  would  punish 
him.  Well,  I  have  kept  my  word.  I  had  to.  I  have  had 
my  fill  of  vengeance.  He  can  go  through  the  rest  of  his  life, 
so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  unharmed.  But  what  I  did,  I 
was  bound  to  do,  and  I  am  ready  to  face  the  consequences, 
if  necessary." 

Louis  nodded  sympathetically. 

"Monsieur,"  said  he,  "you  have  but  to  talk  like  that  to 
convince  the  men  whom  you  will  meet  in  a  few  moments 


40  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

that  you  had  a  real  grievance  against  Tapilow,  and  all 
may  yet  be  well." 

"Who  are  these  men  ?"  I  asked.  "Is  it  a  police  court 
to  which  you  are  taking  me?" 

"Monsieur,"  Louis  answered,  "there  are  things  which 
I  cannot  any  longer  conceal  from  you.  I  myself,  believe 
me,  am  merely  an  outsider.  I  am,  as  you  know,  a  hard- 
working man  with  a  responsible  position  and  a  family  to 
support.  But  here  in  Paris  I  come  on  to  the  fringe  of  a 
circle  of  life  with  which  I  have  no  direct  connection,  and 
yet  whose  happenings  sometimes  touch  upon  the  lives  of 
my  friends  and  intimates.  It  is  a  circle  of  life  into  which 
is  drawn  much  that  is  splendid,  much  that  is  brilliant;  but, 
monsieur,  it  is  life  outside  the  law,  life  which  does  as  it 
thinks  fit,  which  lives  its  own  way,  and  recognizes  no  laws 
save  its  own  interests." 

I  nodded. 

"Go  on,  Louis,  please,"  I  said.  "Tell  me,  for  example, 
who  these  men  are  whom  I  am  going  to  meet." 

"They  are  men,"  Louis  answered,  "who  have  great 
influence  in  that  world  of  which  I  spoke.  The  law  cannot 
touch  them,  or  if  it  could  it  would  not.  They  wield  a 
power  greater  than  the  power  which  drives  the  wheels  of 
government  in  this  country.  If  they  hear  your  story,  and 
they  think  well,  you  will  go  free,  even  though  the  man 
Tapilow  should  die." 

"You  believe  this,  Louis?"  I  asked  curiously. 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  he  answered. 

It  was  not  for  me  to  dispute  what  he  said.  I  merely 
shrugged  my  shoulders.  Yet,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was 
expecting  every  moment  to  find  the  hand  of  a  gendarme 
upon  my  shoulder.  I  expected  it  as  the  carriage  stopped 
before  the  restaurant  and  we  crossed  the  pavement.  I 


AN    INFORMAL    TRIBUNAL  41 

expected  it  even  when  two  men  who  were  sitting  in  the 
anteroom  of  the  restaurant  rose  up  to  meet  us.  Louis, 
standing  between,  performed  an  introduction. 

''Monsieur  Decresson  and  Monsieur  Grisson,"  he  said, 
stretching  out  his  hand,  "permit  me  to  make  you  ac- 
quainted with  Monsieur  le  Capitaine  Rotherby,  a  retired 
officer  in  the  English  army,  and  brother  of  the  Earl  cf 
Welmington." 

The  two  men  bowed  politely  and  held  out  their  hands. 
They  were  both  typical  well-dressed,  good-looking  French- 
men, apparently  of  the  upper  class.  Monsieur  Decresson 
had  a  narrow  black  beard,  a  military  moustache,  a  high 
forehead,  pale  complexion,  and  thoughtful  eyes.  Mon- 
sieur Grisson  was  shorter,  with  lighter-colored  hair,  some- 
thing of  a  fop  in  his  attire,  and  certainly  more  genial  in 
his  manner. 

"It  is  a  pleasure,"  they  both  declared,  "to  have  the 
honor  of  meeting  Monsieur  le  Capitaine." 

The  usual  inanities  followed.  Then  Monsieur  Decres- 
son pointed  with  his  hand  into  the  restaurant. 

"If  monsieur  will  do  us  the  honor  to  join  us,"  he  said, 
"we  will  take  luncheon.  Afterwards,"  he  continued,  "we 
can  talk  over  our  coffee  and  liqueurs.  It  would  be  well 
for  us  to  become  better  acquainted." 

I  saw  no  reason  to  object.  I  was,  in  fact,  exceedingly 
hungry.  We  lunched  at  a  corner  table  in  the  famous 
restaurant,  and  I  am  bound  to  admit  that  we  lunched 
exceedingly  well.  During  the  progress  of  the  meal  our 
conversation  was  absolutely  general.  All  the  events  of  the 
previous  night  were  carefully  ignored.  When  at  last, 
however,  we  sat  over  our  coffee  and  liqueurs,  Monsieur 
Decresson,  after  a  moment's  pause,  turned  his  melancholy 
gray  eyes  on  me. 


42  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "my  friend  and  I  rep- 
resent a  little  group  of  people  who  have  some  interest  in 
the  place  where  we  met  last  night.  We  are  deputed  to  ask 
you  to  explain,  if  you  can,  your  conduct,  —  your  attack, 
which  it  seemed  to  us  was  absolutely  unprovoked,  upon 
an  habitue  of  the  place  and  an  associate  of  our  own." 

"There  is  only  one  explanation  which  I  can  make,"  I 
answered  slowly.  "I  went  there,  as  Louis  will  tell  you, 
absolutely  a  stranger,  and  absolutely  by  chance.  Chance 
decreed  that  I  should  meet  face  to  face  the  one  man  in 
the  world  against  whom  I  bear  a  grudge,  the  one  man 
whom  I  had  sworn  to  punish  whenever  and  wherever  I 
might  meet  him." 

Monsieur  Decresson  bowed. 

"There  are  situations,"  he  admitted,  "which  can  only 
be  dealt  with  in  that  manner.  Do  not  think  me  personal 
or  inquisitive,  I  beg  of  you,  but  —  I  ask  in  your  own 
interests  —  what  had  you  against  this  man  Tapilow  ?  " 

"Monsieur  Decresson,"  I  said,  "I  will  answer  you 
frankly.  The  man  whom  I  punished  last  night,  I  punished 
because  I  have  proved  him  to  be  guilty  of  conduct  unbe- 
coming to  a  gentleman.  I  punished  him  because  he  broke 
the  one  social  law  which  in  my  country,  at  any  rate,  may 
not  be  transgressed  with  impunity." 

"What  you  are  saying  now,"  Monsieur  Grisson  inter- 
rupted, "amounts  to  an  accusation.  Tapilow  is  known 
to  us.  These  things  must  be  spoken  of  seriously.  You 
speak  upon  your  honor  as  an  English  soldier  and  a 
gentleman  ?" 

"Messieurs,"  I  answered,  turning  to  both  of  them,  "it 
is  agreed.  I  speak  to  you  as  I  would  speak  to  the  judge 
before  whom  I  should  stand  if  I  had  murdered  this  man, 
and  I  tell  you  both,  upon  my  honor,  that  the  treatment 


AN    INFORMAL    TRIBUNAL  43 

which  he  received  from  me  he  merited.  He  borrowed  my 
money  and  my  brother's  money.  He  accepted  the  hos- 
pitality of  my  brother's  house,  the  friendship  of  his 
friends.  In  return,  he  robbed  him  of  the  woman  whom 
he  loved." 

"The  quarrel,"  Monsieur  Decresson  said  softly,  "seems, 
then,  to  have  been  another's." 

"Messieurs,"  I  answered,  "my  brother  is  an  invalid  for 
life.  The  quarrel,  therefore,  was  mine." 

Decresson  and  his  companion  exchanged  glances.  I 
leaned  back  in  my  chair.  The  three  of  them  talked 
together  earnestly  for  several  minutes  in  an  undertone. 
Then  Louis,  with  a  little  sigh  of  relief,  rose  to  his  feet  and 
came  over  to  my  side. 

"It  is  finished,"  he  declared.  "Monsieur  Decresson 
and  Monsieur  Grisson  are  of  one  mind  in  this  matter. 
The  man  Tapilow's  punishment  was  deserved." 

I  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  them  in  wonder. 

" But  I  do  not  understand  !"  I  exclaimed.  "You  mean 
to  say,  then,  that  even  if  Tapilow  himself  should  wish  it  —  " 

Monsieur  Decresson  smiled  grimly. 

"What  happens  in  the  Cafe  des  Deux  Epingles,"  he 
said,  "happens  outside  the  world.  Without  special  per- 
mission it  would  not  be  possible  for  Monsieur  Tapilow  to 
speak  to  the  police  of  this  assault.  Buy  your  Figaro  every 
evening,"  he  continued,  "and  soon  you  will  read.  In  the 
meantime,  I  recommend  you,  monsieur,  not  to  stay  too 
long  in  Paris." 

They  took  leave  of  me  with  some  solemnity  on  the 
pavement  outside  the  restaurant,  but  Monsieur  Decres- 
son, before  stepping  into  his  automobile,  drew  me  a  little 
on  one  side. 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "you  have  been  dealt 


44  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

with  to-day  as  a  very  privileged  person.  You  were 
brought  to  the  Cafe  des  Deux  Epingles  a  stranger,  almost 
a  guest,  and  your  behavior  there  might  very  well  have 
been  resented  by  us." 

"If  I  have  not  said  much,"  I  answered,  "please  do  not 
believe  me  any  the  less  grateful." 

"Let  that  go,"  Monsieur  Decresson  said  coldly.  "Only 
I  would  remind  you  of  this.  You  are  a  young  man,  but 
your  experience  has  doubtless  told  you  that  in  this  world 
one  does  not  often  go  out  of  one's  way  to  serve  a  stranger 
for  no  purpose  at  all.  There  is  a  chance  that  the  time 
may  come  when  we  shall  ask  you,  perhaps  through  Louis 
here,  perhaps  through  some  other  person,  to  repay  in 
some  measure  your  debt.  If  that  time  should  come,  I 
trust  that  you  will  not  prove  ungrateful." 

"I  think,"  I  answered  confidently,  "that  there  is  no 
fear  of  that." 

Monsieur  Decresson  touched  Louis  on  the  shoulder 
and  motioned  him  to  enter  the  automobile  which  was 
waiting.  With  many  bows  and  solemn  salutes  the  great 
car  swung  off  and  left  me  there  alone.  I  watched  it  until 
it  disappeared,  and  then,  turning  in  the  opposite  direction, 
started  to  walk  toward  the  Ritz.  Curiously  enough  it 
never  occurred  to  me  to  doubt  for  a  moment  the  assurance 
which  had  been  given  me.  I  had  no  longer  the  slightest 
fear  of  arrest. 

On  the  way  I  passed  the  Cafe  de  Paris.  Then  I  suddenly 
remembered  that  strange  little  note  from  the  girl  with  the 
turquoises.  I  never  stopped  to  consider  whether  or  not  I 
was  doing  a  wise  thing.  I  opened  the  swing  doors  and 
passed  into  the  restaurant.  It  was  almost  empty,  except 
for  a  few  people  who  had  sat  late  over  their  luncheon.  I 
called  Leon  to  me. 


AN    INFORMAL    TRIBUNAL  45 

"Leon,"  I  said,  "you  remember  me?  I  am  Captain 
Rotherby." 

He  held  up  his  hand. 

"It  is  enough,  monsieur,"  he  declared.  "If  monsieur 
would  be  so  good." 

He  drew  me  a  little  on  one  side. 

"Mademoiselle  still  waits,"  he  said  in  an  undertone. 
"If  monsieur  will  ascend." 

"Upstairs?"  I  asked. 

Leon  bowed  and  smiled. 

"Mademoiselle  is  in  one  of  the  smaller  rooms,"  he  said. 
"Will  monsieur  follow  me?" 

"Why,  certainly,"  I  answered. 


CHAPTER  VH 

A   DOUBLE   ASSIGNATION 

I  FOLLOWED  Leon  upstairs  to  the  region  of  smaller  apart- 
ments. At  the  door  of  one  of  these  he  knocked,  and  a 
feminine  voice  at  once  bade  us  enter. 

Mademoiselle  was  sitting  upon  a  lounge,  smoking  a 
cigarette.  On  the  table  before  her  stood  an  empty  coffee- 
cup  and  an  empty  liqueur-glass.  She  looked  at  me  with  a 
little  grimace. 

"At  last!"  she  exclaimed. 

"It  is  the  gentleman  whom  mademoiselle  was  expect- 
ing?" Leon  asked  discreetly. 

"Certainly,"  she  answered.    "You  may  go,  Leon." 

We  were  alone.  She  gave  me  her  fingers,  which  I  raised 
to  my  lips. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "I  owe  you  a  thousand  apolo- 
gies. I  can  assure  you,  however,  that  I  have  come  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment." 

She  motioned  me  to  sit  down  upon  the  lounge  by  her 
side. 

"Monsieur  had  a  more  interesting  engagement,  per- 
haps?" she  murmured. 

"Impossible!"  I  answered. 

Now  I  had  come  here  with  no  idea  whatever  of  making 
love  to  this  young  lady.  My  chief  interest  in  her  was 
because  she,  too,  was  an  habitue  of  this  mysterious  cafe ; 
and  because,  from  the  first,  I  felt  that  she  had  some  other 
than  the  obvious  reason  for  sending  me  that  little  note. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  for  me  to  conceal  these  things,  and 


A    DOUBLE    ASSIGNATION  47 

I  did  not  hesitate  to  take  her  hand  in  mine  as  we  sat  side 
by  side.  She  did  not  draw  it  away,  and  she  did  not  en- 
courage me. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  "do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  be  rash. 
It  was  foolish  of  me,  perhaps,  to  meet  you  here.  We  can 
talk  for  a  few  minutes,  and  afterwards,  perhaps,  we  may 
meet  again,  but  I  am  frightened  all  the  time." 

"Monsieur  Bartot?"  I  asked. 

She  nodded. 

"He  is  very,  very  jealous,"  she  answered. 

"You  go  with  him  every  night  to  the  restaurant  in  the 
Place  d'Anjou?"  I  asked. 

"I  go  there  very  often,"  she  answered.  "Monsieur, 
unless  I  am  mistaken,  is  a  stranger  there." 

I  nodded. 

"Last  night,"  I  told  her,  "I  was  there  for  the  first  time/" 

"You  came,"  she  said,  toying  with  her  empty  liqueur- 
glass,  "with  Louis." 

"That  is  so,"  I  admitted. 

"Louis  brings  no  one  there  without  a  purpose,"  shd 
remarked. 

"You  know  Louis,  then?"  I  asked. 

She  raised  her  eyebrows. 

"All  the  world  knows  Louis,"  she  continued.  "A 
smoother- tongued  rascal  never  breathed." 

"Louis,"  I  murmured,  "would  be  flattered." 

"Louis  knows  himself,"  she  continued,  "and  he  knows 
that  others  know  him.  When  I  saw  monsieur  with  him 
I  was  sorry." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  I  said,  "to  take  so  much  interest." 

She  looked  at  me,  for  the  first  time,  with  some  spice  of 
coquetry  in  her  eyes. 

"I  think  that  I  show  my  interest,"  she  murmured,  "in 


48  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

meeting  monsieur  here.  Tell  me,"  she  continued,  "why 
were  you  there  with  Louis?" 

"A  chance  affair,"  I  answered.  "I  met  him  coming 
out  of  the  Opera.  I  was  bored,  and  we  went  together  to 
the  Montmartre.  There  I  think  that  I  was  more  bored 
still.  It  was  Louis  who  proposed  a  visit  to  the  Cafe  des 
Deux  fipingles." 

"Did  you  know,"  she  asked,  "that  you  would  meet 
that  man  —  the  man  with  whom  you  quarrelled?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  had  no  idea  of  it,"  I  answered. 

She  leaned  just  a  little  towards  me. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  "if  you  seek  adventures  over 
here,  do  not  seek  them  with  Louis.  He  knows  no  friends, 
he  thinks  of  nothing  but  of  himself.  He  is  a  very  dan- 
gerous companion.  There  are  others  whom  it  would  be 
better  for  monsieur  to  make  companions  of." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  answered,  looking  into  her  eyes, 
"these  things  are  not  so  interesting.  You  sent  me  last 
night  a  little  note.  When  may  I  see  you  once  more  in  that 
wonderful  blue  gown,  .and  take  you  myself  to  the  theatre, 
to  supper,  —  where  you  will  ?  " 

She  shot  a  glance  at  me  from  under  her  eyelids.  The 
blind  was  not  drawn,  and  the  weak  sunlight  played  upon 
her  features.  She  was  over-powdered  and  over-rouged, 
made  up  like  all  the  smart  women  of  her  world,  but  her 
features  were  still  good  and  her  eyes  delightful. 

"Ah,  monsieur,"  she  said,  "but  that  would  be  doubly 
imprudent.  It  is  not,  surely,  well  for  monsieur  to  be  seen 
too  much  in  Paris  to-day  ?  He  was  badly  hurt,  that  poor 
Monsieur  Tapilow." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  assured  her,  "there  are  times  when 
the  risk  counts  for  nothing." 


A    DOUBLE    ASSIGNATION  49 

"Are  all  Englishmen  so  gallant?"  she  murmured. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  answered,  "with  the  same  induce- 
ment, yes !" 

"Monsieur  has  learned  how  to  flatter,"  she  remarked. 

"It  is  an  accomplishment  which  I  never  mastered,"  I 
declared. 

She  sighed.  All  the  time  I  knew  quite  well  that  she 
carried  on  this  little  war  of  words  impatiently.  There 
were  other  things  of  which  she  desired  to  speak. 

"Tell  me,  monsieur,"  she  said,  "what  had  he  done  to 
you,  this  man  Tapilow?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"You  must  forgive  me,"  I  said.  "That  is  between  him 
and  me." 

"And  Monsieur  Louis,"  she  murmured. 

"Louis  knew  nothing  about  it,"  I  declared. 

She  seemed  perplexed.  She  had  evidently  made  up 
her  mind  that  Louis  had  taken  me  there  with  the  object 
of  meeting  Tapilow,  and  for  some  reason  the  truth  was 
interesting  to  her. 

"It  was  a  quarrel  about  a  woman,  of  course,"  she  mur- 
mured, —  "the  friend  of  monsieur,  or  perhaps  a  relation. 
I  am  jealous  !  Tell  me,  then,  that  it  was  a  relation." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  answered  gravely,  "I  cannot  dis- 
cuss with  you  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  between  that  man 
and  myself.  Forgive  me  if  I  remind  you  that  it  is  a  very 
painful  subject.  Forgive  me  if  I  remind  you,  too,"  I 
added,  taking  her  other  hand  in  mine  for  a  moment, 
"that  when  I  saw  you  scribble  those  few  lines  and  send 
them  across  to  me,  and  when  I  read  what  you  said  and 
came  here,  it  was  not  to  answer  questions  about  any  other 
person." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  mine.    They  were  curiously  and 


50  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

wonderfully  blue.  Then  she  shook  her  head  and  with- 
drew her  hands,  sighing. 

"But,  monsieur,"  she  said,  "since  then  many  things 
have  happened.  You  must  not  show  yourself  about  hi 
Paris.  It  is  better  for  you  to  go  back  to  England." 

"I  am  quite  safe  here,"  I  declared. 

"Then  it  has  been  arranged!"  she  exclaimed  quickly. 
"Louis  is,  after  all,  monsieur's  friend.  He  has  perhaps 
seen  — " 

"We  will  not  talk  of  these  things,"  I  begged.  "I  would 
rather  —  " 

She  started,  and  drew  a  little  away,  glancing  nervously 
toward  the  door. 

"I  am  terrified,"  she  said.  "Monsieur  must  come 
to  my  apartments  one  afternoon,  where  we  can  talk 
without  fear.  There  is  one  more  question,  though," 
she  continued  rapidly.  "Louis  looked  often  at  us.  Tell 
me,  did  he  say  anything  to  you  about  Monsieur  Bartot 
and  myself?" 

"Nothing,"  I  answered,  "except  that  Monsieur  Bartot 
held  a  somewhat  unique  position  in  a  certain  corner  of 
Paris,  and  that  he  was  a  person  whom  it  was  not  well  to 
offend." 

"No  more?"  she  asked. 

"No  more,"  I  answered. 

"I  saw  him  point  us  out  to  you,"  she  remarked. 

"I  asked  him  to  show  me  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  room,"  I  answered. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"You  are  too  much  of  a  courtier  for  an  Englishman," 
she  said.  "You  do  not  mean  what  you  say." 

"Even  an  Englishman,"  I  answered,  "can  find  words 
when  he  is  sufficiently  moved." 


A    DOUBLE    ASSIGNATION  51 

I  made  a  feint  again  to  hold  her  hands,  but  she  drew 
away. 

"  When  are  you  going  back  to  England  ? "  she  asked 
abruptly. 

"To-morrow,  I  think,"  I  answered,  "if  I  am  still  free." 

"Free!"  she  repeated  scornfully.  "If  you  are  pro- 
tected, who  is  there  who  will  dare  to  touch  you  ?  Mon- 
sieur Decresson  has  all  the  police  dancing  to  his  bidding, 
and  if  that  were  not  sufficient,  Monsieur  Bartot  could 
rescue  you  even  from  prison.  No,  you  are  safe  enough, 
monsieur,  even  if  you  remain  here !  It  is  Louis,  eh,  who 
is  anxious  for  you  to  return  to  England  ?" 

"My  time  was  nearly  up  anyhow,"  I  told  her.  "It  is 
not  until  this  moment  that  I  have  felt  inclined  to  stay." 

"Nevertheless,"  she  murmured,  "Monsieur  goes  to 
London  to-morrow.  Is  it  permitted  to  ask — " 

"Anything,"  I  murmured. 

"  If  monsieur  goes  alone  ?  " 

"I  fear  so,"  I  answrered,  "unless  mademoiselle — " 

She  laid  her  fingers  upon  my  lips. 

"Monsieur  does  not  know  the  elderly  gentleman  and 
the  very  beautiful  girl  who  sat  opposite  him  last  night?" 
she  asked,  —  "Monsieur  Delora  and  his  niece?" 

Somehow  I  felt  convinced,  the  moment  that  the  ques- 
tion had  left  her  lips,  that  her  whole  interest  in  me  was 
centred  upon  my  reply.  She  concealed  her  impatience 
very  well,  but  I  realized  that,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
I  was  sitting  there  by  her  side  solely  that  I  might  answer 
that  question. 

"I  heard  their  names  last  night  for  the  first  time,"  I 
declared.  "It  was  Louis  who  told  me  about  them." 

She  looked  at  me  for  several  moments  as  though  anxious 
to  be  sure  that  I  had  spoken  the  truth. 


52  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Mademoiselle!"  I  said  reproachfully.  "Let  us 
leave  these  topics.  I  am  not  interested  in  the  Deloras,  or 
Louis,  or  Monsieur  Bartot.  Last  night  is  finished,  and 
to-morrow  I  leave.  Let  us  talk  for  a  few  moments  of 
ourselves." 

She  held  up  her  finger  suddenly. 

"Listen  !"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  terror. 

Footsteps  had  halted  outside  the  door.  She  ran  to  the 
window  and  looked  down.  In  the  street  below  was  stand- 
ing an  automobile  with  yellow  wheels.  I  was  looking  over 
her  shoulder,  and  she  clutched  my  arm. 

"It  is  he  — Bartot!"  she  cried.  "He  is  here  at  the 
private  entrance.  Some  one  has  told  him  that  I  am  here. 
Mon  Dieu  !  It  is  he  outside  now !" 

It  was  bad  acting,  and  I  laughed. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "if  Monsieur  Bartot  is  your 
lover,  be  thankful  that  you  have  nothing  with  which  to 
reproach  yourself." 

I  rang  the  bell.  She  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  with 
eyes  filled  with  a  genuine  fear.  Obviously  she  did  not 
understand  my  attitude.  From  my  trousers  pocket  I 
drew  a  little  revolver,  whose  settings  and  mechanism  I 
carefully  examined.  There  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  door 
and  the  sound  of  voices  outside.  Monsieur  Bartot  entered, 
in  a  frock-coat  too  small  for  him  and  a  tie  too  large.  When 
he  saw  us  he  fell  back  with  a  theatrical  start. 

"Susette!"  he  exclaimed.  "Susette!  And  you,  sir!" 
he  added,  turning  to  me. 

He  slammed  the  door  and  stood  with  his  back  to  it. 

"What  the  devil  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  ke  asked, 
looking  from  one  to  the  other  of  us. 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"You    had    better    ask    mademoiselle,"    I    answered. 


A    DOUBLE    ASSIGNATION  53 

"She  is,  I  believe,  an  acquaintance  of  yours.  As  for 
me—" 

"My  name  is  Bartot,  sir,"  he  cried  fiercely. 

"An  excellent  name,"  I  answered,  "but  unknown  to 
me.  I  do  not  yet  understand  by  what  right  you  intrude 
into  a  private  room  here." 

He  laughed  hardly. 

"'Intrude'!"  he  cried.  "One  does  not  call  it  that. 
'Intrude,'  when  I  find  you  two  together,  eh?" 

I  turned  to  the  girl,  who,  with  her  handkerchief  dabbed 
to  her  eyes,  was  still  affecting  a  perfect  frenzy  of  fear. 

"Has  this  person  any  claims  upon  you?"  I  asked. 
"He  seems  to  me  to  be  an  exceedingly  disagreeable 
fellow." 

Bartot's  face  grew  purple.  His  cheeks  seemed  to  dis- 
tend and  his  eyes  grow  smaller.  It  was  no  longer  neces- 
sary for  him  to  play  a  part.  He  was  becoming  angry 
indeed. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  "I  remember  you  now.  It  was 
you  who  tried  to  flirt  with  this  lady  last  night  in  the  Cafe 
des  Deux  fipingles.  You  have  not  even  the  excuse  of 
ignorance.  All  the  world  knows  that  I  have  claims  upon 
this  lady." 

I  bowed. 

"Claims,"  I  answered,  "which  I  can  assure  you  I  am 
not  in  a  position  to  dispute." 

"How  is  it,  then,"  he  asked  fiercely,  "that  I  find  you 
two,  strangers  last  night,  together  to-day  here?" 

I  altered  one  of  the  cartridges  in  my  revolver  and  let 
it  go  with  a  snap.  Bartot  took  a  quick  step  backwards. 

"It  is  a  long  story,"  I  said  softly,  "and  I  doubt  whether 
it  would  interest  you,  Monsieur  Bartot.  Still,  if  you  are 
really  curious,  mademoiselle  will  satisfy  you  later." 


54  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

I  saw  a  look  pass  between  the  two,  and  I  no  longer 
had  any  doubt  whatever.  I  knew  that  they  were  in  collu- 
sion, that  I  had  been  brought  here  to  be  pumped  by 
mademoiselle. 

"Monsieur,"  Bartot  said,  "you  are  apparently  armed, 
and  you  can  leave  this  room  if  you  will,  but  I  warn  you 
that  you  will  not  leave  Paris  so  easily." 

The  situation  was  quite  plain  to  me.  However  little 
flattering  it  might  be  to  my  vanity,  I  should  not  have  been 
in  the  least  surprised  if  Monsieur  Bartot  had  held  out 
his  hands,  begged  my  pardon,  and  ordered  a  bottle  of 
wine. 

"Be  reasonable,  monsieur,"  I  begged.  "It  is  open  to 
every  one,  surely,  to  admire  mademoiselle  ?  For  the  rest, 
I  have  been  here  only  a  few  moments.  So  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned," I  added,  glancing  at  the  table,  "mademoiselle 
has  lunched  alone." 

"If  I  coulu  believe  that !"  Bartot  muttered,  with  a  look 
of  coming  friendship  in  his  eyes. 

"Mademoiselle  will  assure  you,"  I  continued. 

"Then  what  are  you  doing  here?"  he  asked. 

I  raised  my  eyebrows. 

"I  was  not  aware,"  I  said,  "that  this  was  a  private 
restaurant." 

"But  these  are  private  rooms,"  he  answered.  "Still, 
if  it  was  a  mistake,  —  I  trust  mademoiselle  always." 

She  held  out  her  hands  to  him  with  a  theatrical  gesture. 

"Henri,"  she  cried,  "you  could  not  doubt  me!  It  is 
impossible!" 

"You  are  right,"  he  answered  quickly.  "I  was  too 
hasty." 

I  smiled  upon  them  both. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "I  am  sorry  that  our  pleasant 


A    DOUBLE    ASSIGNATION  55 

little  conversation  has  been  interrupted.  Believe  me, 
though,  to  be  always  your  devoted  slave." 

I  opened  the  door.  Monsieur  Bartot  turned  towards 
me.  I  am  convinced  that  he  was  about  to  offer  me  his 
hand  and  to  call  for  that  bottle  of  wine.  I  felt,  however, 
that  flight  was  safest.  I  went  out  and  closed  the  door. 

"The  bill,  monsieur?"  a  waiter  called  after  me  as  I 
descended  the  stairs. 

I  gave  him  five  francs  for  a  pour  boire. 

"Monsieur  there  will  pay,"  I  told  him,  pointing  towards 
ihe  room. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LOUIS   INSISTS 

I  ARRIVED  at  the  Ritz  to  find  Louis  walking  impatiently 
up  and  down  the  stone-flagged  pavement  outside  the  en- 
trance. He  came  up  to  me  eagerly  as  I  approached. 

"I  have  been  waiting  for  you  for  more  than  an  hour !" 
he  exclaimed. 

I  looked  at  him  in  some  surprise.  I  had  not  yet  grown 
accustomed  to  hear  him  speak  in  such  a  tone. 

"Did  I  say  that  I  was  coming  straight  back  ?"  I  asked. 

"Of  course  not,"  he  answered.  "After  you  left,  though, 
I  had  some  trouble  with  Monsieur  Grisson.  There  is  a 
chance  that  we  may  have  to  move  Tapilow  to  a  hospital, 
and  he  is  just  one  of  those  fools  who  talk.  Monsieur 
Grisson  insists  upon  it  that  you  leave  Paris  by  the  four 
o'clock  train  this  afternoon." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  could  not  catch  it,"  I  declared.  "It  is  half-past 
three  now." 

"On  the  other  hand,  you  can  and  you  must,"  Louis 
answered.  "I  took  the  liberty  of  telephoning  in  your 
name  and  ordering  the  valet  to  pack  your  clothes.  Your 
luggage  is  in  the  hall  there,  and  that  automobile  is  waiting 
to  take  you  to  the  Gare  du  Nord." 

I  opened  my  mouth  to  protest,  but  Louis'  manner 
underwent  a  further  change. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "it  is  I  and  my  friends 
who  save  you,  perhaps,  from  a  considerable  inconvenieia««. 


LOUIS    INSISTS  57 

Forgive  me  if  I  remind  you  of  this,  but  it  is  not  fitting  that 
you  should  argue  with  us  on  this  matter." 

Louis  was  right.  For  more  reasons  than  he  knew  of,  it 
was  well  that  I  should  leave  Paris. 

"Are  you  coming  with  me?"  I  asked. 

"I  am  crossing  by  the  night  boat,"  Louis  answered. 
"I  have  not  quite  finished  the  work  for  which  I  came  over. 
I  have  some  things  to  buy." 

I  smiled. 

"Upon  my  word,"  I  said,  "I  had  forgotten  your  pro- 
fession." 

I  went  back  into  the  hotel  and  paid  my  bill.  Louis 
drove  with  me  to  the  station  and  saw  to  the  registration  of 
my  luggage.  Afterwards  he  found  my  reserved  seat,  in 
which  I  arranged  my  rug  and  books.  Then  I  turned  and 
walked  down  the  corridor  with  him. 

"I  trust,"  he  said,  "that  monsieur  will  have  a  pleasant 
journey  and  pleasant  companions." 

I  glanced  into  the  coupe  which  we  were  just  passing.  It 
seemed  curious  that  even  as  the  wish  left  his  lips  I  should 
find  myself  looking  into  the  dark  eyes  of  the  girl  whose 
face  had  been  so  often  in  my  thoughts  during  the  last  few 
days !  Opposite  her  was  the  gray-bearded  man  Delora, 
already  apparently  immersed  in  a  novel.  Every  seat  in 
the  compartment  was  laden  with  their  small  belongings,  — 
dressing-bags,  pillows,  a  large  jewel-case,  books,  papers, 
flowers,  and  a  box  of  chocolates.  I  turned  to  Louis. 

"Again,"  I  remarked,  "we  meet  friends.  What  a  small 
place  the  world  is  ! " 

We  stepped  down  on  to  the  platform.  Louis,  for  some 
reason,  seemed  slightly  nervous.  He  glanced  up  at  the 
clock  and  watched  the  few  late  arrivals  with  an  interest 
which  was  almost  intense. 


58  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  a  little  abruptly,  "there  is  a  ques- 
tion which  I  should  like  to  ask  you  before  you  leave." 

"  There  are  a  good  many  I  should  like  to  ask  you,  Louis," 
I  answered,  "but  they  will  keep.  Go  ahead." 

"}  should  like  to  know,"  Louis  said,  "where  you  spent 
the  hour  which  passed  between  your  leaving  the  Cafe 
Normandy  and  arriving  at  the  Ritz." 

I  hesitated  for  a  moment.  After  all,  I  had  no  reason 
to  keep  my  movements  secret.  It  was  better,  indeed,  to 
avoid  complications  so  far  as  possible. 

"You  shall  know  if  you  like,  Louis,"  I  said.  "I  kept 
my  appointment  with  the  young  lady  of  the  turquoises." 

Louis'  pale  face  seemed  suddenly  strained. 

"It  was  my  fault!"  he  muttered.  "I  should  not  have 
left  you !  You  do  not  understand  how  those  affairs  are 
here  in  Paris  !  If  Bartot  knew  — " 

"Bartot  did  know,"  I  interrupted. 

Louis'  face  was  a  study. 

"Bartot  came  in  while  I  was  talking  to  mademoiselle," 
I  said. 

"There  was  a  scene?"  Louis  inquired  breathlessly. 
"Bartot  threatened  monsieur?  Perhaps  there  were 
blows?" 

"Nothing  of  the  sort,"  I  answered.  "Bartot  blustered 
a  little  and  mademoiselle  wrung  her  hands,  but  they 
played  their  parts  badly.  Between  you  and  me,  Louis,  I 
have  a  sort  of  an  idea  that  Bartot's  coming  was  not  alto- 
gether accidental." 

"It  was  a  trap,"  Louis  murmured  softly.    "But  why?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "I  am  the  wrong  sort  of  man  to  be 
even  a  temporary  dweller  in  this  nest  of  intrigue.  I  do  not 
understand  it  at  all.  I  do  not  understand  any  of  you.  I 


LOUIS    INSISTS  59 

only  know  that  I  owe  you  and  those  other  gentlemen  a 
very  considerable  debt,  and  I  have  been  solemnly  warned 
against  you  by  the  young  lady  whom  I  met  at  the  Cafe  de 
Paris.  I  have  been  assured  that  association  with  you  is 
the  first  step  toward  my  undoing.  Monsieur  Bartot,  for 
all  his  bluster,  seemed  very  anxious  to  be  friendly." 

"It  was  the  girl !"  Louis  exclaimed.  "Bartot  was  too 
big  a  fool  to  understand  !" 

I  sighed. 

"I  fear  that  I  am  in  the  same  position  as  Monsieur 
Bartot,"  I  said.  "I  do  not  understand  !" 

There  was  a  warning  cry.  I  had  only  just  time  to  swing 
myself  on  to  the  slowly  moving  train.  Louis  ran  for  a 
moment  by  the  side. 

"Those  people  are  harmless,"  he  said.  "They  merely 
wished,  if  they  could,  to  make  use  of  you.  Mademoiselle 
has  tied  other  fools  to  her  chariot  wheels  before  now,  that 
Bartot  may  grow  fat.  But,  monsieur!" 

I  leaned  over  to  catch  his  words. 

"If  Monsieur  or  Mademoiselle  Delora  should  address 
you,"  he  said,  "you  need  have  no  fear.  They  are  not  of 
the  same  order  as  Bartot  and  Susette." 

"I  will  remember,"  I  answered,  waving  my  farewells. 

I  regained  my  compartment,  which  I  was  annoyed  to 
find  had  filled  up  till  mine  was  the  only  vacant  seat.  I  had 
not  had  time  to  buy  any  papers  or  magazines,  but,  after 
all,  I  had  enough  to  interest  me  in  my  thoughts.  Of 
Tapilow  I  scarcely  thought  at  all.  He  and  I  had  met,  and 
I  had  kept  my  oath.  So  far  as  I  was  concerned,  that  was 
the  end.  I  had  not  even  any  fears  for  my  own  safety  as 
regards  this  matter.  My  interview  with  Decresson  and  his 
friend  had  had  a  curiously  convincing  effect  upon  me.  I 
felt  that  I  had  been  tried  for  my  crime,  and  acquitted,  in 


6o 

the  most  orthodox  fashion.  For  me  the  curtain  had  fallen 
upon  that  tragedy.  It  was  the  other  things  which  occupied 
my  mind.  I  seemed  to  have  fo  md  my  way  into  a  maze,  to 
have  become  mixed  up  in  certain  affa  rs  in  a  most  mysteri- 
ous and  inexplicable  way.  What  was  the  meaning  of  that 
place  to  which  Louis  had  introduced  me?  Was  it  some 
sort  of  secret  organization,  —  an  organization  which  as- 
sumed to  itself,  at  any  rate,  the  power  to  circumvent  the 
police  ?  And  Bartot,  too  !  Had  he  really  the  power  which 
Louis  had  declared  him  to  possess  ?  If  so,  why  had  he 
baited  a  clumsy  trap  for  me  and  permitted  me  to  walk 
out  of  it  untouched  ?  What  did  they  want  from  me,  these 
people?  The  thought  was  utterly  confusing.  I  could 
find  absolutely  no  explanation.  Then,  again,  another 
puzzle  remained.  I  remembered  Louis'  desire,  almost 
command,  that  I  should  return  to  London  by  this  particu- 
lar train.  Had  he  any  reason  for  it  ?  Was  it  connected  in 
any  way,  I  wondered,  with  the  presence  of  this  man  and 
girl  in  the  next  compartment  ?  It  seemed  feasible,  even  if 
inexplicable. 

I  rose  and  strolled  down  the  corridor,  looking  in  at  the 
coupe  where  these  two  people  sat,  with  all  the  banal  im- 
pertinence of  the  curious  traveller.  The  girl  met  my  eyes 
once  and  afterwards  simply  ignored  me.  The  man  never 
looked  up  from  his  magazine.  I  passed  and  repassed 
three  or  four  times.  The  effect  was  always  the  same.  At 
last  I  resumed  my  seat.  At  any  rate,  they  showed  no 
pressing  desire  to  make  my  acquaintance ! 

At  Boulogne  I  descended  at  once  into  the  saloon  and 
made  a  hasty  meal.  Wrhen  I  came  up  on  deck  in  the 
harbor  I  found  that  the  chair  which  I  had  engaged  was 
lashed  close  to  the  open  door  of  a  private  cabin,  and  in  the 
door  of  that  cabin,  standing  within  a  few  feet  of  me,  was 


LOUIS    INSISTS  61 

the  niece  of  Monsieur  Delora.  I  racked  my  brains  for 
something  to  say.  She  gave  me  no  encouragement  what- 
ever. At  last  I  descended  to  a  banality. 

"We  shall  have  rather  a  rough  crossing,  I  am  afraid," 
I  said,  touching  my  cap. 

She  looked  at  me  as  though  surprised  that  I  should 
have  ventured  to  address  her.  She  did  not  take  the  trouble 
to  be  annoyed.  She  answered  me,  indeed,  with  civility, 
but  in  a  manner  which  certainly  did  not  encourage  me  to 
attempt  any  further  conversation.  There  was  a  moment's 
pause.  Then  she  turned  away  and  spoke  to  some  one 
behind  her  in  the  cabin.  A  moment  or  two  later  the  door 
was  closed  and  I  was  left  alone.  After  that  it  seemed 
ridiculous  to  imagine  that  there  was  any  special  signifi- 
cance to  be  attached  to  the  fact  that  we  were  fellow- 
passengers. 

The  crossing  was  a  rough  one,  and  I  saw  nothing  more 
of  either  Delora  or  the  girl.  I  had  very  little  hand  baggage, 
and  I  was  one  of  the  first  to  reach  the  train,  where  I  made 
myself  comfortable  in  the  corner  seat  of  a  carriage  towards 
the  rear  end.  The  inspector,  whom  I  knew  very  well, 
locked  my  door,  and  until  the  last  moment  it  seemed  as 
though  I  should  have  the  compartment  to  myself.  The 
train,  indeed,  was  on  the  point  of  starting,  and  I  had  al- 
most given  up  looking  out  for  my  fellow  passengers  when 
they  came  hurrying  up  along  the  platform.  I  saw  them 
glancing  into  the  windows  of  every  carriage  in  the  hope  of 
finding  a  seat.  Two  porters  carried  their  small  baggage. 
An  obsequious  guard  followed  in  the  rear.  Just  as  they 
were  opposite  to  the  carriage  in  which  I  was  sitting  the 
whistle  blew. 

"Plenty  of  room  higher  up  !"  the  inspector  exclaimed. 
"Take  your  seats,  please." 


62  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"We  will  get  in  here,"  the  girl  answered,  —  "that  is  f  3 
say,  unless  it  is  a  reserved  carriage.  Please  to  open  the 
door  at  once." 

The  inspector  hesitated,  remembering  the  tip  which  I 
had  given  him,  but  he  had  no  alternative.  The  guard 
produced  his  key  and  opened  the  door  It  was  not  until 
that  moment  that  the  girl  recognized  me.  She  stepped 
back,  and  the  look  which  she  threw  in  my  direction  was 
certainly  not  flattering. 

"Can  you  find  us  another  carriage?"  she  asked  the 
guard,  imperiously. 

"Quite  impossible,  miss,"  the  man  answered.  "You 
must  get  in  here  or  be  left  behind." 

They  had  barely  time  to  take  their  seats.  As  my  place 
was  next  to  the  window,  I  felt  bound  to  help  the  porter 
hand  in  the  small  packages.  The  man  Delora,  who  was 
wrapped  up  in  a  fur  coat,  and  who  looked  ghastly  ill, 
thanked  me  courteously  enough,  but  the  girl  ignored  my 
assistance.  They  took  the  two  corner  seats  at  the  further 
end  of  the  carriage.  Delora  immediately  composed  him- 
self to  sleep. 

"It  was  a  wretched  crossing!"  he  said  to  the  girl, — 
"the  most  miserable  crossing  I  have  ever  had  !  And  these 
trains,  —  so  small,  so  uncomfortable  !" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"When  one  travels,"  she  said,  "I  suppose  that  one 
must  put  up  with  inconveniences  of  all  sorts." 

I  knew  very  well  that  the  last  part  of  her  sentence  not 
only  had  reference  to  me,  but  was  intended  for  my  hearing. 
I  affected,  however,  to  be  absorbed  in  the  magazine  which 
I  was  reading,  and  under  cover  of  which  I  was  able  to 
make  a  close  observation  of  the  man,  who  was  sitting  on 
the  same  side  as  myself.  He  had  put  up  his  feet  and  closed 


LOUIS    INSISTS  63 

his  eyes,  but  he  had  evidently  suffered  badly  from  sea- 
sickness, for  his  face  remained  almost  deathly  white,  and 
he  shivered  now  and  then  as  though  with  cold.  He  had 
lost  the  well-groomed  air  which  had  distinguished  him  hi 
Paris.  His  features  were  haggard  and  worn,  and  he 
looked  at  least  ten  years  older.  His  clothes  were  excel- 
lently made,  and  the  fur  coat  which  he  had  wrapped 
around  himself  was  magnificent.  For  the  rest,  he  seemed 
tired  out  —  a  man  utterly  wearied  of  life.  Before  we  had 
reached  the  town  station  he  was  asleep. 

The  train  rushed  on  into  the  darkness,  and  after  a  time 
I  ventured  to  glance  toward  the  girl.  She,  too,  was  leaning 
back  in  her  place,  but  her  face  was  turned  a  little  away 
from  me  towards  the  window,  through  which  she  was 
gazing  with  the  obvious  intentness  of  one  whose  thoughts 
are  far  awray.  I  had  all  my  life  been  used  to  observing 
closely  people  of  either  sex  who  interested  me,  and  I  found 
now,  as  I  had  found  during  those  various  accidental  meet- 
ings in  Paris,  that  the  study  of  this  young  woman  afforded 
me  a  peculiar  pleasure.  Apart  from  her  more  personal 
fascination,  she  was  faultlessly  dressed.  She  wore  a 
black  tailor-made  suit,  perhaps  a  little  shorter  than  is 
usual  for  travelling  in  England,  patent  shoes,  —  long  and 
narrow,  —  and  black  silk  stockings.  Her  hat  was  a  small 
toque,  and  her  veil  one  of  those  for  which  Frenchwcmen 
are  famous,  —  very  large,  but  not  in  the  least  disfiguring. 
This,  however,  she  had  raised  for  the  present,  and  I  was 
able  to  study  the  firm  but  fine  profile  of  her  features,  to 
notice  the  delicacy  of  her  chin,  her  small,  well-shaped 
ears,  her  eyebrows  —  black  and  silky.  Her  eyes  them- 
selves were  hidden  from  me,  but  their  color  had  been  the 
first  thing  which  had  attracted  me.  They  were  of  a  blue 
so  deep  that  sometimes  they  seemed  as  black  as  her  eye- 


64  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

brows  themselves.  It  was  only  when  she  smiled  or  came 
into  a  strong  light  that  they  seemed  suddenly  to  flash  al- 
most to  violet.  Her  figure  was  slim  —  she  was,  indeed, 
little  more  than  a  girl  —  but  very  shapely  and  elegant. 
She  could  scarcely  be  called  tall,  but  there  was  something 
in  her  carriage  which  seemed  to  exaggerate  her  height. 
The  very  poise  of  her  head  indicated  a  somewhat  con- 
temptuous indifference  to  the  people  amongst  whom  she 
moved. 

I  had  kept  my  scrutiny  under  control,  prepared  for  any 
sudden  movement  on  the  part  of  the  girl ;  but  after  all  she 
was  too  quick  for  me.  She  turned  from  the  window  with 
a  perfectly  natural  movement,  and  yet  so  swiftly  that  our 
eyes  met  before  I  could  look  away.  She  leaned  a  little 
forward  in  her  place,  and  her  forehead  darkened. 

"Perhaps,  sir,"  she  said,  "you  will  be  good  enough  to 
tell  me  the  meaning  of  your  persistent  impertinence  ? " 


CHAPTER  IX 

A   TRAVELLING   ACQUAINTANCE 

HER  words  were  so  unexpected  that  for  a  moment  or  two 
I  was  speechless.  On  the  whole,  I  scarcely  felt  that  I  de- 
served the  cold  contempt  of  her  voice  or  the  angry  flash  in 
her  eyes. 

"I  am  afraid  I  don't  understand  you,"  I  said.  "If  you 
refer  to  the  fact  that  I  was  watching  you  with  some  interest 
at  that  moment,  I  suppose  I  must  plead  guilty.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  object  altogether  to  the  term  'impertinence.' " 

"And  why  do  you  object?"  she  asked,  looking  at  me 
steadily,  and  beating  with  her  little  hand  the  arm-rest  by 
her  side.  "If  your  behavior  is  not  impertinence,  pray 
what  is  it  ?  We  meet  at  the  Opera.  You  look.  It  is  not 
enough  for  you  that  you  look  once,  but  you  look  twice, 
three  times.  You  come  out  on  to  the  pavement  to  hear  the 
address  which  my  uncle  gives  the  chauffeur.  We  go  to  a 
restaurant  for  supper,  where  only  the  few  are  admitted. 
You  are  content  to  be  brought  by  a  waiter,  but  you  are 
there  !  You  travel  to  England  by  the  same  train,  —  you 
walk  up  and  down  past  my  compartment.  You  presume 
to  address  me  upon  the  boat.  You  give  a  fee  to  the  guard 
that  he  should  put  us  in  your  carriage.  Yet  you  object  to 
the  term  '  impertinence ' ! " 

"I  do,"  I  answered,  "most  strongly.  I  consider  your 
use  of  the  word  absolutely  uncalled  for." 

She  looked  across  at  the  sleeping  man.  He  was  breath- 
ing heavily,  and  was  evidently  quite  unconscious  of  our 
conversation. 


66  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Your  standard  of  manners  is,  I  am  afraid,  a  peculiar 
one,"  she  said.  "In  Paris  one  is  used  always  to  be  stared 
at.  Englishmen,  I  was  told,  behaved  better." 

She  took  up  a  magazine  and  turned  away  with  a  shrug 
of  the  shoulders.  I  leaned  a  little  further  forward  in  my 
place,  and  lowered  my  voice  so  as  not  to  disturb  the 
sleeping  man. 

"You  are  really  unjust  to  me,"  I  said.  "I  will  plead 
guilty  to  noticing  you  at  the  Opera  House,  but  I  did  so  as 
I  would  have  done  any  well-dressed  young  woman  who 
formed  a  part  of  the  show  there.  So  far  as  regards  my 
visit  to  the  Cafe  des  Deux  £pingles,  I  went  at  the  suggestion 
of  Louis,  whom  I  met  by  accident,  and  who  is  the  maitre 
d'hotel  at  my  favorite  restaurant.  I  had  no  idea  that  you 
were  going  to  be  there.  On  the  contrary,  I  distinctly 
heard  your  companion  tell  your  chauffeur  to  drive  to  the 
Ritz.  I  came  on  this  train  by  accident,  and  although  it  is 
true  that  I  spoke  to  you  as  I  might  have  done  to  any  other 
travelling  companion,  I  deny  that  there  was  anything  in  the 
least  impertinent  either  in  what  I  said  or  how  I  said  it. 
So  far  as  regards  your  coming  into  this  carriage,"  I  added, 
"I  feed  the  guard  to  keep  it  to  myself,  and  although  I  will 
not  say  that  your  presence  is  unwelcome,  it  is  certainly 
unsought  for." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  watching  me  all  the  time 
intently.  My  words  seemed  to  have  given  her  food  for 
thought. 

"Listen,"  she  said,  leaning  forward.  "Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  that  was  your  first  visit  to  the  Cafe  des  Deux 
Epingles?" 

"Absolutely  my  first  visit,"  I  answered.  "I  met  Louis 
by  accident  that  night.  He  knew  that  I  was  bored,  and 
he  took  me  there." 


I  LEANED   A   LITTLE    FURTHER   FORWARD    IN    MY    PLACE,  AND    LOWERED   MY 

VOICE   SO   AS   NOT  TO   DISTURB  THE   SLEEPING   MAN. 

Page  66 


A    TRAVELLING    ACQUAINTANCE     67 

"You  met  him  at  the  Opera  and  you  asked  him  who  we 
were,"  she  remarked. 

"That  is  quite  true,"  I  admitted,  "but  I  scarcely  see 
that  there  was  anything  impertinent  in  that.  Afterwards 
we  spoke  together  for  a  little  time.  I  told  him  that  I  was 
alone  in  Paris  and  bored.  It  was  because  I  was  alone  that 
we  went  out  together." 

Her  forehead  was  wrinkled  with  perplexity.  Her  eyes 
seemed  always  to  be  seeking  mine,  as  though  anxious  to 
learn  whether  I  were  indeed  speaking  the  truth. 

"I  do  not  understand  at  all,"  she  said.  "You  mean 
to  tell  me,  then,  that  you  know  nothing  of  Louis  except  as 
a  maitre  d'hotel,  that  you  were  a  chance  visitor  to  Paris 
this  week?" 

"Absolutely,"  I  answered. 

Suddenly  a  thought  seemed  to  occur  to  her.  She  drew 
away  from  me.  In  her  eyes  I  seemed  to  see  reflected  the 
tragedy  of  those  few  moments  hi  the  Cafe  des  Deux 
Epingles. 

"How  can  I  believe  you  ?"  she  exclaimed.  "Remember 
that  I  saw  you  strike  that  man  !  It  was  horrible !  I  have 
never  seen  anything  like  it !  You  were  like  a  wild  animal ! 
They  tell  me  that  he  was  very  badly  hurt.  Is  it  true  ?  " 

"I  believe  so,"  I  answered.  "I  am  afraid  that  I 
hope  so." 

"And  you,"  she  continued,  "go  free!  You  have  not 
even  the  air  of  one  who  flies  for  his  life.  Yet  you  tell  me 
that  you  are  not  one  of  those  —  those  — " 

"Those  what  ?"  I  asked  eagerly. 

"Those  who  frequent  the  Cafe  des  Deux  Epingles," 
she  said  slowly,  —  "those  who  take  advantage  of  the 
peculiar  protection  which  some  of  those  behind  the  scenes 
there  are  able  to  extend  to  their  friends." 


68  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  know  nothing  of  the  place  beyond  that  brief  visit," 
I  answered.  "I  know  nothing  of  Louis  except  as  a  mattre 
d'hotel  in  my  favorite  restaurant.  I  know  nothing  of  the 
people  who  frequent  the  Cafe  des  Deux  fipingles  except 
those  I  saw  there  that  night.  You,"  I  added,  "were  one 
of  them.  I  can  assure  you  that  when  I  went  with  Louis 
to  that  place  I  had  not  the  slightest  idea  that  I  should 
meet  the  person  whom  I  did  meet." 

"What  is  your  name  ?"  she  asked  abruptly. 

I  handed  her  my  card.  She  read  it  with  a  perplexed 
face.  The  man  opposite  to  her  moved  uneasily  in  his  sleep. 
She  crumpled  the  card  up  in  her  hands  and  remained  for 
a  few  moments  apparently  deep  in  thought. 

"You  are  an  Englishman?"  she  asked,  after  a  short 
pause. 

"Decidedly!"   I  answered. 

"I  have  not  known  many  Englishmen,"  she  said  slowly. 
"I  have  lived  in  the  country,  near  Bordeaux,  and  in  Paris, 
most  of  my  days.  It  is  very  certain,  though,  that  I  have 
never  seen  an  Englishman  like  you.  I  was  looking  into 
your  eyes  when  that  man  came  into  the  room.  I  saw  you 
rise  to  strike  him." 

She  shuddered.    I  leaned  across  towards  her. 

"Listen,"  I  said,  "I  do  not  wish  you  to  think  me  worse 
than  I  am.  You  sympathize  with  that  man  whom  I  struck 
down.  You  look  upon  me  as  a  sort  of  would-be  assassin. 
You  need  not.  I  tell  you,  upon  my  honor,  that  if  ever  a 
man  in  this  world  deserved  death,  he  deserved  it." 

"From  you?"  she  asked. 

"From  me  !"  I  answered  firmly.  "It  was  not,  perhaps, 
a  personal  matter,  but  I  have  a  brother,  —  listen,  made- 
moiselle ! "  I  continued.  "He  is  a  cripple.  He  was  thrown 


A    TRAVELLING    ACQUAINTANCE     69 

from  his  horse  —  he  was  master  of  hounds  in  those  days  — • 
and  he  has  never  been  able  to  walk  since.  He  was  married 
to  a  woman  whom  he  loved,  a  poor  girl  whom  he  had 
made  wealthy,  and  to  whom  he  had  given  a  great  position. 
She  loved  him,  and  she  was  content,  after  his  accident,  to 
give  her  life  to  him.  Then  that  man  came,  the  man  whom 
you  saw  me  punish.  I  tell  you  that  this  was  no  chance 
affair,"  I  went  on.  "  He  set  himself  deliberately  to  win  her 
heart.  How  far  he  succeeded  I  do  not  know.  I  can  only 
tell  you  that  she  left  my  brother's  home  with  him.  The 
man  was  his  guest  at  the  time,  —  was  his  guest  from  the 
beginning  of  the  affair." 

The  girl's  eyes  blazed.  Even  in  that  dim  light  I  could 
see  the  dark  blue  fire  in  them. 

"  You  did  well ! "  she  said.  "  For  that  I  have  no  more  to 
say.  One  who  wrrongs  the  helpless  should  be  punished. 
But  I  do  not  understand  this,"  she  added.  "I  do  not 
understand  why  those  people  at  the  Cafe  des  Deux  Epingles 
should  shield  you  when  you  are  not  one  of  them,  —  when 
you  have  no  knowledge  of  any  of  them  save  the  very 
slightest.  They  are  not  philanthropists,  those  people. 
Some  day  or  other  you  will  have  to  pay  the  price !" 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"I  have  never  refused  to  pay  my  just  debts,"  I  said. 
"If  any  one  of  them  comes  to  me  with  a  definite  request 
which  I  can  grant,  you  may  be  very  sure  that  I  shall 
grant  it." 

"You  are  not  already  their  servant,  then  ?"  she  asked. 
"You  are  sure,  quite  sure  of  that?" 

"In  what  way  ?"  I  asked. 

"You  look  honest,"  she  said.  "Perhaps  you  are. 
Perhaps  I  have  doubted  you  without  a  cause.  But  I  will 
ask  you  this  question.  Has  it  been  suggested  to  you 


7o  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

by  any  of  them  that  you  should  watch  us  —  my  uncle 
and  me?" 

"On  my  honor,  no  !"  I  answered  earnestly. 

She  was  evidently  puzzled.  Little  by  little  the  animosity 
seemed  to  have  died  away  from  her  face.  She  looked  at  the 
sleeping  man  thoughtfully,  and  then  once  more  at  me. 

"Tell  me,"  she  said,  —  "do  not  think,  please,  that  I  am 
inquisitive,  but  I  should  like  to  believe  that  you  are  not  one 
of  those  whom  we  need  fear,  —  is  Louis  indeed  an  ordinary 
acquaintance  of  yours?" 

"He  is  scarcely  that,"  I  answered.  "He  is  simply  the 
maitre  d'Jwtel  at  a  restaurant  I  frequent.  I  had  never  in 
my  life  seen  him  before,  except  in  his  restaurant.  When  he 
spoke  to  me  at  the  Opera  I  did  not  for  some  time  recognize 
him." 

She  appeared  to  be  convinced,  but  still  a  little  bewildered. 
She  was  silent. 

"Don't  you  think,"  I  said,  after  a  short  pause,  "that  it  is 
almost  my  turn  now  to  ask  a  few  questions  ?" 

She  seemed  surprised. 

"Why  not?"   she  asked. 

"Tell  me,  you  are  not  English,"  I  said,  "and  you  are 
not  French.  Yet  you  speak  English  so  well." 

She  smiled. 

"My  father  was  a  Frenchman  and  my  mother  a 
Spaniard,"  she  answered.  "I  was  born  in  South  America, 
but  I  came  to  Europe  when  very  young,  and  have  lived  in 
France  always.  My  people  "  —  she  looked  towards  the 
sleeping  man  as  though  to  include  him  —  "are  all  coffee 
planters." 

"You  are  going  to  stay  long  in  London  ?"  I  a^Ked. 

"My  uncle  sells  his  year's  crops  there,"  she  answered. 
"When  he  has  finished  his  business  we  move  on." 


A    TRAVELLING    ACQUAINTANCE     71 

"Will  you  tell  me,  then,"  I  asked,  "why  you,  too,  were 
at  the  Cafe  des  Deux  fipingles  ?  You  admit  that  it  is  the 
resort  of  people  of  mysterious  habits.  What  place  had  you 
there?" 

She  looked  away  from  me  for  a  moment.  My  question 
seemed  to  disconcert  her,  perhaps  by  reason  of  its  directness. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "my  uncle  has  lived  for  many  years 
in  Paris.  He  knows  it  as  well  as  the  Parisians  themselves. 
He  has  always  had  a  taste  for  adventure,  and  I  fancy  that 
he  has  friends  who  are  interested  in  the  place.  At  any 
rate,  I  have  been  there  writh  him  two  or  three  times,  and  he 
is  always  welcome." 

"From  what  I  have  heard,"  I  remarked,  "I  should 
imagine  that  you  and  I  are  the  only  people  who  have  been 
allowed  to  go  there  without  qualifications." 

She  glanced  as  though  by  accident  at  the  sleeping  man 
opposite.  Then,  as  though  conscious  of  what  she  had  done, 
a  spot  of  color  burned  in  her  cheeks.  Since  the  anger 
which  had  first  inspired  her  to  speech  had  died  away,  her 
manner  had  been  a  little  shy.  I  realized  more  and  more 
that  she  must  be  quite  young. 

"Perhaps,"  she  answered.  "I  do  not  understand  the 
place  or  its  habitues.  I  only  know  that  while  one  is  there, 
one  must  be  careful." 

"Tell  me,"  I  asked,  "what  are  you  going  to  do  in 
London  while  your  uncle  looks  after  his  business?" 

"Amuse  myself  as  best  I  can,  I  suppose,"  she  answered 
carelessly.  "There  are  always  the  shops,  and  the  theatres 
in  the  evening." 

"Where  are  you  going  to  stay  ?"  I  inquired. 

"At  the  Milan,  I  think,"  she  answered. 

Somehow  her  answer  to  my  question  struck  me  as 
ominous.  To  the  Milan,  of  course,  where  Louis  was  all 


72  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

the  time  predominant !  The  girl  might  be  innocent  enough 
of  all  wrong-doing  or  knowledge  of  wrong-doing,  but  could 
one  think  the  same  of  her  uncle?  I  glanced  at  him  in- 
stinctively. In  sleep,  his  features  were  by  no  means 
prepossessing. 

"I  may  come  across  you,  then,"  I  ventured. 

She  smiled  at  me.  It  was  wonderful  what  a  difference 
the  smile  made  in  her  face.  To  me  she  seemed  at  that 
moment  radiantly  beautiful. 

"It  would  be  very  pleasant,"  she  said.  "I  know  no  one 
in  London.  I  expect  to  be  alone  a  great  deal.  You  live  in 
London  ?"  she  asked. 

"As  much  there  as  anywhere,"  I  answered.  "I  have 
never  settled  down  since  I  sent  in  my  papers." 

"Why  did  you  do  that?"  she  asked. 

"I  was  badly  knocked  about  at  Ladysmith,"  I  answered, 
"and  I  could  not  get  round  in  time.  I  have  n't  altogether 
finished  soldiering,  though,"  I  added.  "At  least,  I  hope 
not." 

"But  where  do  you  call  your  home,  then?"  she  asked 
timidly. 

"I  am  not  one  of  those  fortunate  persons  who  possess 
one,"  I  answered.  "  I  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  in  Norfolk 
with  my  brother,  and  I  have  just  a  couple  of  rooms  in 
town." 

The  train  had  slackened  speed.  All  around  us  was  a 
wide-spreading  arc  of  yellow  lights.  The  clearness  had 
gone  from  the  atmosphere.  The  little  current  of  air  which 
came  in  through  the  half-open  window  was  already  murky 
and  depressing. 

" It  is  London  ?"  she  asked. 

"We  shall  be  there  in  ten  minutes,"  I  answered,  look- 
ing out. 


A    TRAVELLING    ACQUAINTANCE     73 

She  leaned  over  and  waked  her  uncle.  He  sat  up 
drowsily. 

"We  shall  be  there  in  ten  minutes,"  she  said. 

"  So  soon  ! "  he  answered.  "  Do  you  know  on  which  side 
we  arrive,  sir  ?"  he  asked  me. 

"On  your  side,"  I  answered. 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  commenced  to  wrap  a  scarf 
around  his  neck. 

"You  will  be  smothered,"  the  girl  remarked. 

"I  am  cold,"  he  answered,  in  a  low  tone.  "I  am  always 
cold  after  I  have  crossed  the  Channel.  Besides,  it  is  the 
damp  air.  You,  too,  will  find  it  so  in  London,  Felicia. 
You  must  be  careful." 

Already  he  was  peering  out  of  the  window  into  the  dark- 
ness. I  could  not  help  wondering  whether  it  was  sea- 
sickness alone  which  was  responsible  for  his  haggard  fea- 
tures, for  that  grim  look  of  covert  fear  which  seemed  to  have 
settled  around  his  mouth  and  eyes.  To  me  he  seemed  like 
a  man  who  is  about  to  face  the  unknown,  and  who  fears  ! 

The  train  began  to  slacken  pace.  We  drew  into  the 
station.  I  noticed  that  a  man  was  standing  by  himself  at 
this  remote  end  of  the  platform,  and  that  as  we  passed  he 
seemed  to  look  intently  into  our  carriage. 

"Can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you  ?"  I  asked  the  girl,  as  I 
collected  my  small  belongings.  "I  suppose,  though,  that 
your  uncle  is  used  to  the  journey." 

She  glanced  towards  the  man  opposite.  He  turned  to 
me,  and  I  found  his  appearance  almost  terrifying.  He 
seemed  to  be  suffering  from  more  than  physical  sickness. 

"I  thank  you,  sir,"  he  said  rapidly.  "You  could,  if  you 
would,  be  of  immense  service." 

"I  should  be  delighted,"  I  answered.  "Tell  me  in  what 
way?" 


74  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  am  exceedingly  ill,"  the  man  said,  with  a  groan. 
"  I  suffer  from  heart  attacks,  and  the  crossing  has  altogether 
upset  me.  If  you  could  remain  with  my  niece  while  our 
luggage  is  examined,  and  send  her  afterwards  to  the  Milan 
Hotel,  you  would  do  a  real  favor  to  a  sick  man.  I  could 
myself  take  a  hansom  there  without  waiting  for  a  moment, 
and  get  to  bed.  Nothing  else  will  do  me  any  good." 

I  glanced  across  at  the  girl.  She  was  watching  her  uncle 
with  distressed  face. 

"  If  you  will  allow  me,"  I  said,  "  it  will  give  me  very  great 
pleasure  to  look  after  you.  I  am  going  to  the  Milan 
myself,  and  I,  too,  have  luggage  to  be  examined." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,"  she  said  hesitatingly.  "Don't 
you  think,  though,"  she  added,  turning  to  her  uncle,  "that 
I  had  better  go  with  you  ?  We  could  send  a  servant  for  the 
luggage  afterwards." 

"No,  no!"  he  objected  impatiently.  "  I  shall  call  at  the 
chemist's.  I  shall  get  something  that  will  put  me  right 
quickly." 

"It  is  settled,  then,"  I  declared. 

Apparently  Delora  thought  so.  The  train  had  scarcely 
come  to  a  standstill,  but  already  he  had  descended.  Avoid- 
ing the  platform,  he  crossed  straight  on  to  the  roadway, 
and  was  lost  amidst  the  tangle  of  cabs.  I  turned  to  the 
girl,  affecting  not  to  notice  his  extraordinary  haste. 

"We  will  have  our  small  things  put  into  an  omnibus,"  I 
said.  "There  will  be  plenty  of  time  afterwards  to  come 
back  and  look  for  our  registered  luggage." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  she  murmured  absently. 

Her  eyes  were  still  watching  the  spot  where  her  com- 
panion had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  X 

DELORA   DISAPPEARS 

I  WAS  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  disengaged  omnibus,  and 
filled  it  with  our  rugs  and  smaller  belongings.  Then  we 
made  our  way  slowly  back  to  the  little  space  prepared  for 
the  reception  of  the  heavier  baggage,  and  around  which 
a  barrier  had  already  been  erected.  There  was  a  slight 
nervousness  in  my  companion's  manner  which  made  con- 
versation difficult.  I,  too,  could  not  help  feeling  that  the 
situation  was  a  difficult  one  for  her. 

"I  am  afraid,"  I  remarked,  "that  you  are  worried  about 
your  uncle.  Is  his  health  really  bad,  or  is  this  just  a  tempo- 
rary attack  ?  I  thought  he  looked  well  enough  in  the  train 
on  the  other  side." 

"He  surfers  sometimes,"  she  answered,  "but  I  do  not 
think  it  is  anything  really  serious." 

"He  will  be  all  right  by  the  time  we  get  to  the  hotel," 
I  declared. 

"Very  likely,"  she  answered.  "For  myself,  I  think  that 
I  always  feel  a  little  nervous  wrhen  I  arrive  at  a  strange 
place.  I  have  never  been  here  before,  you  know,  and  I 
could  not  help  wondering,  for  a  moment,  what  would 
become  of  me  if  my  uncle  were  really  taken  ill.  Every- 
one says  that  London  is  so  big  and  cold  and  heartless." 

"You  would  have  nothing  to  fear,"  I  assured  her.  "You 
forget,  too,  that  your  uncle  has  friends  here." 

We  leaned  over  the  barrier  and  watched  the  luggage 
being  handed  out  of  the  vans  and  thrown  on  to  the  low 
wooden  platforms.  By  my  side  a  dark  young  man,  with 


76  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

sallow  features  and  pince  nez,  was  apparently  passing  his 
time  in  the  same  manner.  My  companion,  who  was  rest- 
less all  the  time,  glanced  at  him  frequently,  or  I  should 
scarcely  have  noticed  his  existence.  In  dress  and  appear- 
ance he  resembled  very  much  the  ordinary  valet  in  private 
service,  except  for  his  eye-glasses,  and  that  his  face  lacked 
the  smooth  pastiness  of  the  class.  For  some  reason  or 
other  my  companion  seemed  to  take  a  dislike  to  him. 

"Come,"  she  said  to  me,  "we  will  move  over  to  the 
other  side.  I  think  we  shall  get  in  quicker." 

I  followed  her  lead,  and  I  saw  her  glance  back  over  her 
shoulder  at  the  young  man,  who  seemed  unaware,  even, 
of  her  departure. 

"I  do  hate  being  listened  to,"  she  said,  "even  when  one 
is  talking  about  nothing  in  particular ! " 

"Who  was  listening  to  us?"  I  asked. 

"The  young  man  next  to  you,"  she  answered.  "I  could 
see  him  look  up  in  that  horrid  stealthy  way  from  under 
his  eyelids." 

I  laughed. 

"You  are  a  very  observant  person,"  I  remarked. 

She  drew  a  little  closer  to  me.  Somehow  or  other  I 
found  the  sense  of  her  near  presence  a  delightful  thing. 
All  her  garment  seemed  imbued  with  a  faint  perfume,  as 
though  of  violets. 

"I  think  that  I  have  only  become  so  quite  lately,"  she 
said.  "Perhaps  it  is  because  I  have  lived  such  a  quiet  life, 
and  now  things  are  so  different.  My  uncle  has  been  so 
mysterious,  especially  during  the  last  few  days,  and  I 
suppose  it  has  made  me  suspicious.  Wherever  we  go,  I 
always  seem  to  fancy  that  some  one  is  watching  us.  Be- 
sides, I  am  sure  that  that  young  man  was  a  South  American, 
and  I  hate  South  Americans !" 


DELORA    DISAPPEARS  77 

"I  fancy,"  I  said,  "that  the  attention  he  bestowed  upon 
us  was  due  to  a  more  obvious  cause." 

"Please  do  not  talk  like  that,"  she  begged.  "I  do  not 
wish  for  compliments  from  you.  I  have  been  told  always 
that  Englishmen  are  so  truthful.  One  has  compliments 
from  Frenchmen,  from  Spaniards,  and  from  South  Ameri- 
cans. They  fall  like  froth  from  their  lips,  and  one  knows 
all  the  time  that  it  means  nothing,  and  less  than  noth- 
ing. It  is  such  a  pity  !" 

"Why  a  pity?"  I  asked,  more  for  the  sake  of  keeping 
her  talking  than  anything.  "Certainly  it  is  a  picturesque 
habit  of  speech." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"I  do  not  like  it,"  she  said  quietly.  "By  degrees,  one 
comes  to  believe  nothing  that  any  man  says,  even  when  he 
is  in  earnest.  Remember,  Capitaine  Rotherby,  I  hope 
that  I  shall  never  hear  a  compliment  from  you." 

"I  will  be  careful,"  I  promised  her,  "but  you  must 
remember  that  there  is  sometimes  a  very  fine  distinction 
I  may  be  driven  to  say  something  which  sounds  quite 
nice,  because  it  is  the  truth." 

She  laughed  at  me  with  her  eyes,  a  habit  of  hers  which 
from  the  first  I  had  admired.  For  the  moment  she  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  her  anxieties. 

"You  are  worse  than  these  others,"  she  murmured. 
"  I  believe  —  no,  I  am  quite  sure,  that  you  are  more  dan- 
gerous !  Come,  they  are  ready  for  us." 

The  barriers  were  thrown  open,  and  a  little  stream  of 
people  entered  the  enclosed  space.  My  companion's 
trunks  were  all  together,  and  easily  found.  The  officer 
bent  over,  chalk  in  hand,  and  asked  a  few  courteous 
questions.  At  that  moment  I  became  aware  that  the 
young  man  in  eye-glasses  was  standing  once  more  by 


78  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

my  side.  Her  trunks  were  promptly  marked,  and  I  di- 
rected the  porter  to  take  them  to  our  omnibus.  Then  we 
moved  on  a  little  to  where  my  things  were.  The  young 
man  sauntered  behind  us,  and  stopped  to  light  a  ciga- 
rette. My  companion's  fingers  fell  upon  my  arm. 

"He  is  everywhere!"  she  murmured.  "What  does  he 
want?" 

I  turned  round  sharply  and  caught  him  in  the  act  of 
inspecting  my  labels.  I  was  beginning  now  to  lo«e  my 
temper. 

"May  I  ask,"  I  said,  standing  in  his  way,  "to  what  we 
owe  —  this  young  lady  and  I  —  your  interest  in  us  and 
our  concerns?" 

He  stared  at  me  blankly. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  sir,"  he  said. 

I  was  foolish  enough  to  lose  my  temper.  A  policeman 
was  standing  within  a  few  feet  of  us,  and  I  appealed  to 
him. 

"This  person  annoys  us,"  I  said,  pointing  him  out, 
"by  following  us  everywhere  we  go.  The  young  lady  is 
carrying  a  jewel-case,  and  I  have  papers  of  some  impor- 
tance myself.  Will  you  kindly  ask  him  to  move  on,  or 
ascertain  whether  he  is  a  bona  fide  traveller?" 

The  young  man  smiled  faintly.  The  policeman  an- 
swered me  civilly,  but  I  knew  at  once  that  I  had  made 
a  mistake. 

"This  gentleman  is  well  known  to  us,  sir,"  he  said. 
"I  do  not  think  you  will  find  him  causing  you  any  trouble." 

"I  hope,  at  any  rate,"  I  said,  turning  away,  "that  we 
have  seen  the  last  of  him." 

Apparently  we  had,  —  for  the  moment,  at  any  rate.  I 
claimed  my  oArn  belongings,  and  had  them  sent  down  to 
the  omnibus  Then  I  handed  my  companion  in.  and  was 


DELORA    DISAPPEARS  79 

on  the  point  of  joining  her,  when  I  saw  walking  along  the 
platform,  within  a  few  feet  of  us,  the  policeman  to  whom 
I  had  appealed.  I  turned  back  to  him. 

"I  wonder,"  I  said,  drawing  him  a  little  on  one  side, 
"  if  you  would  care  to  earn  a  sovereign  without  committing 
a  breach  of  duty  ?  '* 

He  looked  at  me  stolidly.  Apparently  he  thought  that 
silence  was  wisest. 

"You  said  that  that  young  man  who  followed  us  about 
here  was  well  known  to  you,"  I  said.  "Who  is  he?" 

"It  is  not  my  place  to  tell  you,  sir,"  the  man  answered, 
and  passed  on. 

I  stepped  into  the  'bus  and  we  drove  off.  As  we  turned 
out  of  the  station  I  caught  a  last  glimpse  of  our  shadower. 
He  was  standing  close  to  the  main  exit  with  his  hands 
behind  him,  looking  up  to  the  sky  as  though  anxious  to  dis- 
cover whether  it  were  still  raining.  He  looked  into  our 
'bus  as  it  clattered  by,  and  my  companion,  who  caught 
sight  of  him,  leaned  back  in  her  seat. 

"I  am  sure,"  she  declared  firmly,  "that  that  is  a 
detective." 

I  was  equally  certain  of  it,  but  I  only  laughed. 

"If  he  is,"  I  said,  "it  is  certainly  not  you  who  needs  to 
be  anxious.  There  can  be  no  question  as  to  whom  he  is 
watching.  You  must  remember  that  although  those 
mysterious  people  up  at  the  Place  d'Anjou  may  be  power- 
ful in  their  way,  they  would  have  to  be  very  clever  indeed 
to  protect  me  absolutely.  It  is  pretty  well  known  over 
here  that  I  had  threatened  to  kill  Tapilow  wherever  I 
met  him." 

She  looked  at  me  for  a  moment,  doubtfully,  and  then 
she  shook  her  head. 

"It  is  not  you  whom  they  are  watching,"  she  said. 


8o  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Who,  then?"  I  asked. 

"My  uncle  and  me,"  she  answered. 

I  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "why  you  think  that?  Your  uncle 
is  a  man  of  position,  and  has  legitimate  business  here. 
Why  should  he  be  watched  by  detectives?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  suppose  it  is  because  we  are  foreigners,"  she  said, 
"but  ever  since  my  uncle  fetched  me  from  Bordeaux  we 
seem  to  have  been  watched  by  some  one  wherever  we  go." 

"You  will  not  suffer  much  from  that  sort  of  thing  over 
here,"  I  remarked  cheerfully.  "England  is  not  a  police- 
fidden  country  like  Germany,  or  even  France." 

"I  know,"  she  answered,  "and  yet  I  have  told  you 
before  how  I  feel  about  arriving  in  England.  There  seems 
something  unfriendly  in  the  very  atmosphere,  something 
which  depresses  me,  which  makes  me  feel  as  though 
there  were  evil  times  coming." 

I  laughed  reassuringly. 

"You  are  giving  way  to  fancies,"  I  said.  "I  am  sure 
that  London  is  doing  its  best  for  you.  See,  the  rain  is  all 
over.  We  have  even  continental  weather  to  welcome  you. 
Look  at  the  moon.  For  London,  too,"  I  added,  "the 
streets  seem  almost  gay." 

She  leaned  out  of  the  window.  A  full  moon  was  shining 
in  a  cloudless  sky.  The  theatres  were  just  over.  The 
pavements  were  thronged  with  men  and  women,  and  the 
streets  were  blocked  with  carriages  and  hansoms  on  their 
way  to  the  various  restaurants.  At  the  entrance  to  the 
Milan  our  omnibus  was  stopped  for  several  moments 
whilst  motors  and  carriages  of  all  descriptions,  with  their 
load  of  men  and  women  in  evening  clothes,  passed  slowly 
by  and  turned  in  at  the  courtyard.  We  found  ourselves 


DELORA    DISAPPEARS  81 

at  last  at  the  doors  of  the  hotel,  and  I  received  the  usual 
welcome  from  my  friend  the  hall-porter. 

"Back  again  once  more,  you  see,  Ashley,"  I  remarked. 
"I  have  brought  Miss  Delora  on  from  the  station.  Her 
uncle  is  here  already.  \Ve  came  over  by  the  same  train." 

The  reception  clerk  stepped  forward  and  smilingly 
acknowledged  my  greeting.  He  bowed,  also,  to  my 
companion. 

"We  are  very  pleased  to  see  you,  Miss  Delora,"  he  said. 
"We  were  expecting  you  and  Mr.  D'lora  to-night." 

"My  uncle  came  on  at  once  from  the  station,"  she  said. 
"He  was  not  feeling  very  well." 

The  clerk  bowed,  but  seemed  a  little  puzzled. 

"Will  you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  Mr.  Delora?"  she 
asked. 

"Mr.  Delora  has  not  yet  arrived,  madam,"  the  clerk 
answered. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  speechless. 

"Not  arrived?"  I  interrupted.  "Surely  you  must  be 
mistaken,  Dean !  He  left  Charing  Cross  half  an  hour 
before  us." 

The  clerk  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  quite  sure,  Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "that 
Mr.  Delora  has  not  been  here  to  claim  his  rooms.  He  may 
have  entered  the  hotel  from  the  other  side,  and  be  in  the 
smoking-room  or  the  American  bar,  but  he  has  not  been 
here." 

There  was  a  couch  close  by,  and  my  companion  sat 
down.  I  could  see  that  she  had  turned  very  white. 

"Send  a  page-boy  round  the  hotel,"  I  told  the  hall- 
porter,  "to  inquire  if  Mr.  Delora  is  in  any  of  the  rooms. 
If  I  might  make  the  suggestion,"  I  continued,  turning 
towards  her,  "I  would  go  upstairs  at  once.  You  may 


82  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

find,  after  all,  that  Mr.  Dean  has  made  a  mistake,  and 
that  your  uncle  is  there." 

"Why,  yes  !"  she  declared,  jumping  up.  "I  will  go  at 
once.  Do  you  mind  —  will  you  come  with  me  ?" 

"With  pleasure!"  I  answered. 

I  paused  for  a  moment  to  give  some  instructions  about 
my  own  luggage.  Then  I  stepped  into  the  lift  with  the 
clerk  and  her. 

"Your  uncle,  I  hope,  is  not  seriously  indisposed,  Miss 
Delora?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  no!"  she  answered.  "He  found  the  crossing 
very  rough,  and  he  is  not  very  strong.  But  I  do  not  think 
that  he  is  really  ill." 

"It  is  a  year  since  we  last  had  the  pleasure,"  the 
clerk  continued. 

She  nodded. 

"My  uncle  was  over  then,"  she  remarked.  "For  me 
this  is  the  first  time.  I  have  never  been  in  England 
before." 

The  lift  stopped. 

"What  floor  are  we  on?"  the  girl  asked. 

"The  fifth,"  the  clerk  answered.  "WTe  have  quite  com- 
fortable rooms  for  you,  and  the  aspect  that  your  uncle 
desired." 

We  passed  along  the  corridor  and  he  opened  the  door, 
which  led  into  a  small  hall  and  on  into  a  sitting-room.  The 
clerk  opened  up  all  the  rooms. 

"You  will  see,  as  I  told  you  before,  Miss  Delora,"  he 
said,  "that  there  is  no  one  here.  Your  uncle's  rooms  open 
out  from  the  right.  The  bathroom  is  to  the  left  there,  and 
beyond  are  your  apartments." 

She  peered  into  each  of  the  rooms.  They  were  indeed 
empty. 


DELORA    DISAPPEARS  83 

"The  apartments  are  very  nice,"  she  said,  "but  I  do 
not  understand  what  has  become  of  my  uncle." 

"He  will  be  up  in  a  few  minutes,  without  a  doubt,"  the 
clerk  remarked.  "Is  there  anything  more  that  I  can  do 
for  you,  madam  ?  Shall  I  send  the  chambermaid  or  the 
waiter  to  you  ?" 

"Not  yet,"  she  answered.  "I  must  wait  for  my  uncle. 
Will  you  leave  word  below  that  he  is  to  please  come  up 
directly  he  arrives?" 

"Certainly,  madam!"  the  clerk  answered,  turning 
towards  the  door. 

I  should  have  followed  him  from  the  room,  but  she 
stopped  me. 

"Please  don't  go,"  she  said.  "I  am  very  foolish,  I 
know,  but  I  am  afraid  ! " 

"I  will  stay,  of  course,"  I  answered,  sitting  down  by 
her  side  upon  the  couch,  "  but  let  me  assure  you  that  there 
is  nothing  whatever  to  fear.  Your  uncle  may  have  had  a 
slight  cab  accident,  or  he  may  have  met  with  a  friend  and 
stopped  to  talk  for  a  few  minutes.  In  either  case  he  will 
be  here  directly.  London,  you  know,  is  not  the  city  of 
mysteries  that  Paris  is.  There  is  very  little,  indeed,  that 
can  happen  to  a  man  between  Charing  Cross  Station  and 
the  Milan  Hotel." 

She  leaned  forward  a  little  and  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

"Please  don't!"  I  begged.  "Indeed,  I  mean  what  I 
say !  There  is  no  cause  to  be  anxious.  Your  uncle  spoke 
of  stopping  at  a  chemist's.  They  may  be  making  up  his 
prescription.  A  hundred  trivial  things  may  have  happened 
to  keep  him." 

"You  do  not  know  !"  she  murmured. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THROUGH    THE   TELEPHONE 

THERE  was  no  doubt  about  it  that  Delora  had  disap- 
peared. I  followed  the  reception  clerk  downstairs  m}'self 
within  the  space  of  a  few  minutes,  and  made  the  most 
careful  inquiries  in  every  part  of  the  hotel.  It  did  not 
take  me  very  long  to  ascertain,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt,  that  he  was  not  upon  the  premises,  nor  had  he  yet 
been  seen  by  any  one  connected  with  the  place.  I  even 
walked  to  the  corner  of  the  courtyard  and  looked  aim- 
lessly up  and  down  the  Strand.  Within  those  few  hun- 
dred yards  which  lay  between  where  I  was  standing  and 
Charing  Cross  something  had  happened  which  had  pre- 
vented his  reaching  the  hotel.  It  may  have  been  the 
slightest  of  accidents.  It  might  be  something  more  seri- 
ous. Or  it  might  even  be,  I  was  forced  to  reflect,  that  he 
had  never  intended  coming !  Presently  I  returned  to  the 
suite  of  rooms  upon  the  fifth  floor  to  make  my  report  to 
Miss  Delora.  I  found  her  calmer  than  I  had  expected, 
but  her  face  fell  when  I  was  forced  to  confess  that  I  had 
heard  no  news. 

"I  am  sorry,"  I  said,  "but  there  is  no  doubt  that  up  to 
the  present,  at  any  rate,  your  uncle  has  not  been  here.  I 
am  quite  sure,  though,"  I  added,  "that  there  is  no  cause 
for  alarm.  A  hundred  slight  accidents  might  have  hap- 
pened to  detain  him  for  half  an  hour  or  so." 

She  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"It  is  more  than  that,"  she  said  softly. 


THROUGH    THE    TELEPHONE         85 

"Tell  me,"  I  asked,  "would  you  like  me  to  communicate 
with  the  police?  They  are  in  touch  with  the  hospitals, 
and  if  any  misfortune  has  happened  to  your  uncle  — 
which,  after  all,  is  scarcely  likely  —  we  should  hear  of  it 
directly." 

She  shook  her  head  vigorously.  The  idea,  for  some 
reason,  seemed  to  displease  her. 

"No!"  she  said.  "Why  should  we  appeal  to  the 
police  ?  What  have  they  to  do  with  my  uncle  ?  I  am 
quite  sure  that  he  would  not  wish  that." 

"I  presume,"  I  said,  "that  nothing  of  this  sort  has  ever 
happened  before  ?  —  I  mean  that  he  has  not  left  you 
without  warning  ?" 

"Not  under  the  same  circumstances,"  she  admitted. 
"And  yet,  he  has  a  very  queer  way  of  absenting  himself 
every  now  and  then." 

"For  long?"  I  asked. 

"It  depends,"  she  answered.  "Never  for  any  length  of 
time,  though." 

"After  all,"  I  remarked,  "you  cannot  have  seen  such  a 
great  deal  of  him.  He  lives  in  South  America,  does  he  not, 
and  you  have  never  been  out  of  France?" 

"It  is  true,"  she  murmured. 

"I  noticed,"  I  continued  thoughtfully,  "that  he  seemed 
disturbed  as  we  neared  London." 

She  drew  out  the  pins  from  her  hat,  and  with  a  little 
gesture  of  relief  threw  it  upon  the  table. 

"Please  sit  down  for  a  minute,"  she  said.  "I  want  to 
think." 

She  leaned  forward  upon  the  couch,  her  head  buried  in 
her  hands.  I  felt  that  she  desired  silence,  so  I  said  nothing. 
Several  moments  passed,  then  there  came  a  sudden  and 
unexpected  interruption.  The  bell  of  the  telephone  in- 


86  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

strument,  which  stood  between  us  upon  the  table,  com- 
menced to  ring.  Her  hands  fell  from  before  her  face.  She 
looked  across  at  me  with  parted  lips  and  wide-open  eyes. 
I  made  a  movement  towards  the  instrument,  but  she 
checked  me. 

"Stop!"  she  said.    "  Wait  a  moment !    Let  me  think!" 

She  had  risen  to  her  feet.  We  stood  looking  at  one 
another  across  the  table.  Between  us  was  the  tele- 
phone instrument  and  the  bell  which  had  just  rung  out 
its  summons. 

"Are  you  not  going  to  answer  it?"   I  asked. 

"I  am  afraid !"  she  answered.  "I  do  not  know  what 
has  come  over  me.  I  am  afraid !  Take  up  the  receiver. 
Tell  me  who  it  is  who  speaks." 

"You  are  sure  that  you  wish  it?"  I  asked. 

"At  once!"  she  insisted.  "They  will  have  gone 
away." 

The  bell  rang  again.    I  took  the  receiver  into  my  hands. 

"Who  is  there?"  I  asked. 

"Is  that  the  apartment  of  Mr.  Delora?"  was  the  reply. 

"Yes!"  I  said. 

"I  wish  to  speak  to  Miss  Felicia  Delora,"  the  voice 
said. 

"Who  are  you?"  I  asked. 

"It  does  not  matter,"  was  the  answer.  "Be  so  good 
as  to  tell  her  to  come  to  the  telephone  —  Miss  Felicia 
Delora." 

I  held  the  receiver  away  from  me  and  turned  to  her. 

"Some  one  wishes  to  speak  to  you,"  I  said. 

"Who  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"The  person  gave  no  name,"  I  answered. 

"Did  you  recognize  the  voice?"  she  asked. 

I  hesitated. 


THROUGH    THE    TELEPHONE         87 

"I  was  not  sure,"  I  said.    "It  was  like  your  uncle's." 

She  took  the  instrument  into  her  hand.  What  passed 
between  her  and  the  person  at  the  other  end  I  had,  of 
course,  no  means  of  telling.  All  I  know  was  that  she  said, 
at  short  intervals,  —  "Yes!  No!  Yes!  I  promise!" 
Then  she  laid  the  instrument  down  and  looked  at  me. 

"The  mystery  is  solved,"  she  said.  "My  uncle  has  met 
some  friends,  and  stayed  with  them  for  a  little  time  to 
discuss  a  matter  of  business.  I  am  sorry  to  have  been  so 
troublesome  to  you.  My  anxieties,  of  course,  are  at  an 
end  now." 

I  bowed,  and  moved  toward  the  door. 

"If  there  is  anything  else  that  I  can  do —  "I  said. 

"I  shall  ask  you,"  she  answered,  looking  at  me  earnestly. 
"I  shall,  indeed." 

"My  number  is  128,"  I  said.  "I  am  two  floors  above 
you.  Please  do  not  forget  to  make  use  of  me  if  you  need  a 
friend." 

"I  shall  not  forget,"  she  answered  softly. 

Then,  as  though  moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  she  held 
out  her  hand,  —  a  small  white  hand  with  rather  long 
fingers,  manicured  to  a  perfection  unusual  in  this  country. 
She  wore  only  one  ring,  in  which  was  set  a  magnificent 
uncut  emerald.  I  held  her  fingers  for  a  moment,  and 
raised  them  to  my  lips. 

"I  shall  be  always  at  your  service,  '  T  answered  quietly, 
"however  much  —  or  however  little  you  may  care  to  tell 
me.  Good  night !" 

I  went  to  my  rooms  and  washed.  Afterwards  I  de- 
scended and  ordered  some  supper  in  the  cafe. 

"Louis  is  not  back  yet  ?"  I  remarked  to  the  waiter  who 
attended  to  me. 

"Not  yet,  monsieur,"  the  man  answered.    "We  expect 


88  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

him  some  time  to-morrow.  Monsieur  is  also  from 
Paris?" 

I  nodded,  and  did  not  pursue  the  subject.  On  my  way 
back  to  my  rooms  half  an  hour  later  I  stopped  to  speak 
for  a  few  minutes  with  the  hall-porter. 

"Mr.  Delora  has  not  arrived  yet,  sir,"  he  remarked. 

"No  !"  I  answered.  "I  dare  say  there  has  been  some 
slight  mistake.  I  fancy  that  he  has  telephoned  to  his 
niece." 

The  hall-porter  looked  a  little  puzzled. 

"It  is  rather  a  curious  thing,  sir,"  he  said,  "but  there 
seem  to  be  a  good  many  people  who  are  wanting  to  see 
Mr.  Delora.  We  have  had  at  least  a  dozen  inquiries  for 
him  during  the  last  few  days,  and  all  from  people  who 
refuse  to  leave  their  names." 

I  nodded. 

"Business  friends,  perhaps,"  I  remarked.  "Mr.  Delora 
comes  over  to  keep  friends  with  his  connections  here,  I 
suppose." 

The  hall-porter  coughed  discreetly  but  mysteriously. 

"No  doubt,  sir,"  he  remarked. 

I  went  on  my  way  to  my  rooms,  not  caring  to  pursue  the 
conversation.  Yet  I  felt  that  there  was  something  beneath 
it  all.  Ashley  knew  or  guessed  something  which  he  would 
have  told  me  with  very  little  encouragement.  Over  a 
final  cigarette  I  tried  to  think  the  matter  out.  Here  were 
these  people,  remarkable  for  nothing  except  the  obviously 
foreign  appearance  of  the  man,  and  the  good  taste  and 
beauty  of  the  girl.  I  had  seen  them  at  every  fashionable 
haunt  in  Paris,  and  finally  at  a  restaurant  which  Louis 
had  frankly  admitted  to  be  the  meeting-place  of  people 
whose  careers  were  by  no  means  above  suspicion.  I  had 
•rossed  with  them  to  England,  and  if  their  presence  on  the 


THROUGH    THE    TELEPHONE         89 

train  were  not  the  cause  for  Louis'  insisting  upon  my  hur- 
ried departure  from  Paris,  it  at  any  rate  afforded  him 
gratification  to  think  that  I  might,  perhaps,  make  their 
acquaintance.  During  the  whole  of  the  journey  neither 
of  them  had  made  the  slightest  overture  towards  me. 
That  we  had  come  together  at  all  was,  without  doubt, 
accidental.  I  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt  the  girl's  first 
attitude  of  irritation  towards  me.  It  was  just  as  certain 
that  her  uncle  had  shown  no  desire  whatever  to  make  my 
acquaintance.  I  remembered  his  curious  agitation  as  we 
had  reached  London,  his  muttered  excuse  of  sea- sickness, 
and  his  somewhat  extraordinary  conduct  in  leaving  his 
niece  alone  with  me  —  a  perfect  stranger  —  while  he 
hurried  off  to  the  hotel  at  which  he  had  never  arrived. 
Presumably,  if  that  was  indeed  he  who  had  spoken  to  the 
girl  upon  the  telephone,  she  understood  more  about  the 
matter  than  I  did.  He  may  have  given  her  some  explana- 
tion which  accounted  for  his  absence.  If  so,  he  had  ob- 
viously desired  it  to  remain  a  secret.  What  was  the  nature 
of  this  mystery  ?  Of  what  was  it  that  he  was  afraid  ?  Who 
was  this  young  man  who,  after  his  departure,  had  taken 
so  much  interest  in  his  niece  and  myself  at  Charing 
Cross  ?  Was  it  some  one  whom  he  had  desired  to  evade  ? 
—  a  detective,  perhaps,  or  an  informer  ?  The  riddle  was 
not  easy  to  solve.  Common-sense  told  me  that  my  wisest 
course  was  to  fulfil  my  original  intention,  and  take  the 
first  train  on  the  morrow  to  my  brother's  house  in  Nor- 
folk. On  the  other  hand,  inclination  strongly  prompted 
me  to  stay  where  I  was,  to  see  this  thing  through,  to  see 
more  of  Felicia  Delora !  I  was  thirty  years  old,  free  and 
unencumbered,  a  moderately  impressionable  bachelor  of 
moderate  means.  Until  the  time  when  the  shadow  of  this 
tragedy  had  come  into  my  life,  which  had  found  its  cul* 


go  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

mination  in  the  little  restaurant  of  the  Place  d'Anjou, 
things  had  moved  smoothly  enough  with  me.  I  had  had 
the  average  number  of  flirtations,  many  pleasant  friend- 
ships. Yet  I  asked  myself  now  whether  there  was  any 
one  in  the  past  who  had  ever  moved  me  in  the  same  way 
as  this  girl,  who  was  still  almost  a  perfect  stranger  to  me. 
I  hated  the  man,  her  uncle.  I  hated  the  circumstances 
under  which  I  had  seen  her.  I  hated  the  mystery  by 
which  they  were  surrounded.  It  was  absolutely  mad- 
dening for  me  to  reflect  that  two  floors  below  she  was 
spending  the  night  either  with  some  mysterious  and  secret 
knowledge,  or  in  real  distress  as  to  her  uncle's  fate.  After 
all,  I  told  myself  a  little  bitterly,  I  was  a  fool !  I  was  old 
enough  to  know  better !  The  man  himself  was  an  adven- 
turer, —  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  it.  How  was  it 
possible  that  she  could  be  altogether  ignorant  of  his 
character  ? 

Then,  just  as  I  was  half  undressed,  there  came  a  soft 
knock  at  my  door.  I  rose  to  my  feet  and  stood  for  a 
moment  undecided.  For  some  time  my  own  personal 
danger  seemed  to  have  slipped  out  of  my  memory.  Now 
it  came  back  with  a  sudden  terrible  rush.  Perhaps  the 
man  Tapilow  was  dead  !  If  so,  this  was  the  end  ! 

I  went  out  into  the  little  hall  and  opened  the  door.  The 
corridors  outside  were  dimly  lit,  but  there  was  no  mis- 
taking the  two  men  who  stood  there  waiting  for  me.  One 
was  obviously  a  police  inspector,  and  the  man  by  his  side, 
although  he  wore  plain  clothes,  could  scarcely  be  any- 
thing but  a  detective. 


CHAPTER  XII 

FELICIA   DELORA 

I  LOOKED  at  the  two  men,  and  they  returned  my  gaze  with 
interest. 

"Are  you  Captain  Rotherby,  sir?"  the  inspector  asked. 

I  nodded. 

"That  is  my  name,"  I  said. 

"We  shall  be  glad  to  have  a  few  words  with  you,  sir," 
he  declared. 

"You  had  better  come  inside,"  I  answered,  and  led  the 
way  into  my  sitting-room. 

"We  have  been  sent  for,"  the  inspector  continued,  "to 
inquire  into  the  disappearance  of  Mr.  Delora,  —  the 
gentleman  who  was  expected  to  have  arrived  at  this  hotel 
this  evening,"  he  added,  referring  to  his  notes. 

To  me,  who  with  a  natural  egotism  had  been  thinking 
of  my  own  affairs,  and  had  been  expecting  nothing  less 
than  arrest,  this  declaration  of  the  object  of  their  visit  had 
its  consolations. 

"We  understand,"  the  inspector  continued,  "that  you 
travelled  with  Mr.  Delora  and  his  niece  from  Folkestone  to 
Charing  Cross." 

"That  is  quite  true,"  I  answered.  "The  guard  put 
them  in  my  carriage." 

"Did  you  converse  with  them  during  the  journev, 
sir?" 

"The  man  was  asleep  all  the  way,"  I  answered.  "He 
never  even  opened  his  eyes  till  we  were  practically  in 
London." 


92  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"You  talked,  perhaps,  with  the  young  lady?"  the  man 
inquired. 

"If  I  did,"  I  answered  serenely,  "it  seems  to  me  that 
it  was  my  business." 

The  police  inspector  was  imperturbable. 

"When  was  the  last  time  you  saw  this  Mr.  Delora?" 
he  asked. 

"At  Charing  Cross  Station,"  I  answered.  "He  left 
the  carriage  directly  the  tram  stopped  and  went  to  get  a 
hansom.  He  had  been  sea-sick  coming  over,  and  was 
anxious  to  get  to  the  hotel  very  quickly." 

"Leaving  his  niece  alone?"  the  man  asked. 

"Leaving  her  in  my  care,"  I  answered.  "We  were  all 
coming  to  the  same  hotel,  and  the  young  lady  and  I  had 
been  in  conversation  for  some  time." 

"He  asked  you,  then,  to  take  care  of  her?"  the  man 
inquired. 

"The  request  as  he  made  it,"  I  answered,  "was  a  per- 
fectly natural  one.  By  the  bye,"  I  continued,  "who  sent 
for  you?" 

"We  were  advised  of  Mr.  Delora's  disappearance  by 
the  proprietor  of  the  hotel,"  the  inspector  answered. 

"How  do  you  know  that  it  is  a  disappearance  at  all  ?" 
I  asked.  "Mr.  Delora  may  have  met  some  friends.  He  is 
not  obliged  to  come  here.  In  other  words,  if  he  chooses  to 
disappear,  he  surely  has  a  perfect  right  to  !  Are  you  acting 
upon  Miss  Delora's  instructions?" 

"No  !"  the  inspector  answered.  "Miss  Delora  has  not 
moved  in  the  matter." 

"Then  I  consider,"  I  declared,  "that  your  action  is  pre- 
mature, and  I  have  nothing  to  say." 

The  inspector  was  temporarily  nonplussed.  My  view 
of  the  situation  was  perfectly  reasonable,  and  my  assump- 


FELICIA    DELORA  93 

tion  that  there  was  some  other  reason  for  their  visit  was 
not  without  truth.  The  man  in  the  plain  clothes,  who 
had  been  listening  intently  but  as  yet  had  not  spoken, 
intervened. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "I  am  a  detective  from 
Scotland  Yard,  —  in  fact  I  am  the  head  of  one  of  the 
departments.  We  know  you  quite  well  to  be  a  young 
gentleman  of  family,  and  above  suspicion.  We  feel  sure, 
therefore,  that  we  can  rely  upon  you  to  help  us  in  any 
course  we  may  take  which  is  likely  to  lead  to  the  detection 
of  crime  or  criminals." 

"Up  to  a  certain  point,"  I  assented,  "you  are  perfectly 
right." 

"There  are  circumstances  connected  with  these  people 
the  Deloras,  uncle  and  niece,"  the  detective  continued, 
"which  require  investigation." 

"I  am  sorry,"  I  answered,  "but  I  cannot  at  present 
answer  any  more  questions,  except  with  Miss  Delora's 
permission." 

"  You  can  tell  me  this,  Captain  Rotherby,"  the  detective 
asked,  looking  at  me  keenly,  "do  you  know  whether 
Miss  Delora  has  been  in  comumnication  with  her  uncle 
since  she  reached  the  hotel  ? " 

"I  have  no  idea,"  I  answered. 

"There  is  a  telephone  in  her  room,"  the  detective  con- 
tinued, without  removing  his  eyes  from  my  face.  "We 
understand  from  the  hall-porter  that  a  message  was  re- 
ceived by  her  soon  after  her  arrival." 

"Very  likely,"  I  answered.  "I  should  suggest  that  you 
go  and  interview  Miss  Delora.  She  will  probably  tell  you 
all  about  it." 

They  were  both  silent.  I  felt  quite  certain  that  they  had 
already  done  so.  At  that  moment  my  own  telephone  bell 


94  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

rang.  The  two  men  exchanged  quick  glances.  I  took  up 
the  receiver. 

"Is  that  Capitaine  Rotherby?" 

I  recognized  the  voice  at  once.  It  was  Miss  Delora 
speaking. 

"Yes!"  I  answered. 

"I  thought  I  should  like  to  let  you  know,"  she  con- 
tinued, "that  I  am  no  longer  in  the  least  anxious  about  my 
uncle.  He  is  always  doing  eccentric  things,  and  I  am  sure 
that  he  will  turn  up,  —  later  to-night,  perhaps,  or  at  any 
rate  to-morrow.  I  do  not  wish  any  inquiries  made  about 
him.  It  would  only  annoy  him  very  much  when  he  came 
to  hear  of  it." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  Miss  Delora,"  I 
answered.  "To  tell  you  the  truth,  there  are  some  men 
here  at  present  who  are  asking  me  questions.  I  have  told 
them,  however,  that  you  are  the  only  person  to  whom  they 
should  apply." 

Her  voice,  when  she  answered  me,  showed  some  signs  of 
agitation. 

"I  have  not  asked  the  help  of  the  police,"  she  declared, 
"  and  I  do  not  need  it !  They  would  have  come  to  my 
rooms,  but  I  refused  to  receive  them." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,  Miss  Delora,"  I  answered. 
"Good  night!" 

"  Good  night,  Capitaine  Rotherby  ! "   she  said  softly. 

I  laid  down  the  receiver. 

"You  have  probably  overheard  my  conversation,"  I 
said  to  the  inspector.  "After  that,  I  can  only  wish  you 
good  night!" 

He  moved  at  once  to  the  door  in  stolid,  discontented 
fashion.  The  detective,  however,  lingered. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "I  cannot  blame  you  for 


FELICIA    DELORA  95 

your  decision.  I  think,  however,  it  is  only  fair  to  warn 
you  that  you  will  probably  find  yourself  better  off  in  the 
long  run  if  you  do  not  mix  yourself  up  in  this  affair." 

"Indeed  !"  I  answered. 

"There  are  wheels  within  wheels,"  the  man  continued. 
"I  have  no  charge  to  make  against  Mr.  Delora.  I  have 
no  charge  to  make  against  any  one.  But  I  think  that  so 
far  as  you  are  concerned,  you  would  be  well  advised  to 
remember  that  these  are  merely  travelling  companions, 
and  that  even  the  most  accomplished  man  of  the  world  is 
often  deceived  in  such.  Good  night,  sir!" 

They  left  me  then  without  another  word.  I  heard  their 
footsteps  die  away  along  the  corridor,  the  ring  of  the  lift 
bell,  the  clatter  of  its  ascent  and  descent.  Then  I  un- 
dressed and  went  to  bed. 

I  awoke  the  next  morning  rather  late,  dressed  and 
shaved  in  my  rooms,  and  descended  to  the  cafe  for  break- 
fast. The  waiter  who  usually  served  me  came  hurrying 
up  with  a  welcoming  smile. 

"Monsieur  Louis,"  he  announced,  "returned  early  this 
morning." 

"He  is  not  here  now?"  I  asked,  looking  around  the 
room. 

The  waiter  smiled  deprecatingly. 

"But  for  the  early  breakfast,  no,  sir  !"  he  said.  "Mon- 
sieur Louis  will  come  at  one  o'clock,  perhaps,  —  perhaps 
not  until  dinner-time.  He  will  be  here  to-day,  though." 

I  unfolded  my  paper  and  looked  through  the  list  of 
accidents.  There  was  nothing  which  could  possibly  have 
applied  to  Mr.  Delora.  I  waited  until  eleven  o  'clock,  and 
then  sent  up  my  name  to  Miss  Delora.  A  reply  came  back 
almost  at  once,  —  Miss  Delora  had  gone  out  an  hour 
ago,  and  had  left  no  word  as  to  the  time  of  her  return. 


g6  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Once  more  I  was  puzzled.  Why  should  she  go  out  unless 
she  had  received  some  news  ?  She  had  told  me  that  she 
had  no  friends  in  London.  It  was  scarcely  likely  that  she 
would  go  out  on  any  casual  expedition  in  her  present  state 
of  uncertainty.  I  made  my  way  to  the  manager's  office, 
whom  I  knew  very  well,  and  with  whom  I  had  often  had 
a  few  minutes'  talk.  He  received  me  with  his  usual 
courtesy,  and  gave  me  a  handful  of  cigarettes  to  try.  I  lit 
one,  and  seated  myself  in  his  easy-chair. 

"Mr.  Helmsley,"  I  said,  "you  know  that  I  am  not,  as  a 
rule,  a  curious  person,  and  I  should  not  like  to  ask  you  any 
questions  which  you  thought  improper  ones,  but  you  have 
some  guests  staying  here  in  whom  I  am  somewhat  in- 
terested." 

Mr.  Helmsley  nodded,  and  by  his  genial  silence  invited 
me  to  proceed. 

"I  mean  Mr.  Delora  and  his  niece,"  I  continued. 

The  smile  faded  from  the  manager's  face. 

"The  gentleman  who  did  not  arrive  last  night?"  he 
remarked. 

I  nodded. 

"I  travelled  up  with  them,"  I  said,  "from  Folkestone, 
and  certainly  Mr.  Delora's  behavior  was  a  little  peculiar 
as  we  neared  London.  He  seemed  nervous,  and  anxious 
to  quit  the  train  at  the  earliest  possible  moment.  I  brought 
his  niece  on  here,  as  you  know,  found  that  he  had  not 
arrived,  and  I  understand  that,  up  to  the  present,  nothing 
has  been  heard  of  him." 

"It  is  quite  true,"  Mr.  Helmsley  admitted  thought- 
fully. "The  matter  was  reported  to  me  last  night,  and 
very  soon  afterwards  an  inspector  from  Scotland  Yard 
called.  I  gave  him  all  the  information  I  could,  naturally, 
but  on  reference  to  the  young  lady  she  declined  to  con- 


FELICIA    DELORA  97 

sider  the  matter  seriously  at  all.  Her  uncle,  she  said,  had 
probably  met  some  friends,  or  had  made  a  call  upon  the 
way.  Under  the  circumstances,  there  was  nothing  else  to 
'b  but  to  drop  the  matter,  so  far  as  any  direct  inquiries 
were  concerned. 

I  nodded. 

"But  the  man  himself?"  I  asked.  "What  do  you 
know  of  him?" 

"I  have  always  understood,"  Mr.  Helmsley  said  slowly, 
"that  he  was  a  gentleman  from  South  America  who  had 
large  coffee  plantations,  and  who  came  over  every  year  to 
sell  his  produce.  He  has  stayed  at  the  hotel  about  this 
time  for  the  last  four  years.  He  has  always  engaged  a 
good  suite  of  rooms,  has  paid  his  accounts  promptly,  —  I 
really  do  not  know  anything  more  about  him." 

"Has  his  niece  accompanied  him  always?"   I  asked. 

"Never  before,"  Mr.  Helmsley  answered,  —  "at  least, 
not  to  my  recollection." 

"You  do  not  know  what  part  of  South  America  he  comes 
from?"  I  asked. 

"I  have  no  idea,"  Mr.  Helmsley  declared.  "His  letters 
are  always  forwarded  to  an  agent." 

"So  practically  you  can  tell  me  nothing,"  I  said,  rising. 

"Nothing  at  all,  I  fear,"  Mr.  Helmsley  answered.  "I 
shall  make  it  a  point  of  calling  upon  the  young  lady  within 
an  hour  or  so,  to  inquire  again  about  her  uncle." 

"The  young  lady  has  gone  out,"  I  remarked.  "I  have 
just  sent  my  own  name  up." 

Mr.  Helmsley  raised  his  eyebrows.  He,  too,  was  sur- 
prised. 

"Then  she  has  probably  heard  something,"  he  remarked. 

"Perhaps,"  I  answered.  "By  the  bye,  I  understand 
that  Louis  is  back." 


§8  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"He  came  by  the  night  train,"  Mr.  Helmsley  answered. 
"I  scarcely  expected  him  so  soon.  -You  will  probably  see 
him  in  the  cafe  at  luncheon-time." 

I  took  my  leave  of  the  manager  and  returned  to  my 
own  side  of  the  hotel. 

"If  Miss  Delora  should  come  in,"  I  said  to  the  hall- 
porter  on  my  way  to  the  lift,  "please  let  me  know.  I  shall 
be  in  my  room,  writing  letters." 

"Miss  Delora  came  in  just  after  you  crossed  the  court- 
yard, sir,"  the  man  answered.  "She  is  in  her  room  now." 

"Alone?"  I  asked. 

"I  believe  that  she  came  in  with  a  gentleman,  sir. 
Shall  I  ring  up  and  ask  for  her?" 

I  hesitated  for  a  moment.  I  was  recalling  to  myself  her 
statement  that  she  had  no  friends  in  London  whatsoever. 

"Yes  !"  I  answered.  "Send  up  my  name,  and  say  that 
I  should  like  to  see  her." 

The  man  went  to  the  telephone,  and  emerged  from  the 
box  a  moment  later. 

"Miss  Delora  would  be  much  obliged,"  he  said,  "if 
you  would  kindly  go  to  her  room  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

I  nodded,  and  turned  away  for  the  lift.  The  cigarette 
between  my  lips  was  suddenly  tasteless.  I  was  experi- 
encing a  new  sensation,  and  distinctly  an  unpleasant  one. 
With  it  was  coupled  an  intense  curiosity  to  know  the  iden- 
tity of  the  man  who  was  even  now  with  Felicia ! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

LOUIS,    MAITRE    D'HOTEL 

I  MEASURED  out  that  quarter  of  an  hour  into  minutes, 
and  almost  into  seconds.  Then  I  knocked  at  the  door  of 
the  sitting-room,  and  was  bidden  enter  by  Felicia  Delora 
herself.  She  was  alone,  but  she  was  dressed  for  the  street, 
and  was  apparently  just  leaving  the  hotel  again.  Her 
clothes  were  of  fashionable  make,  and  cut  with  the  most 
delightful  simplicity.  Her  toilette  was  that  of  the  ideal 
Frenchwoman  who  goes  out  for  a  morning's  shopping, 
and  may  possibly  lunch  in  the  Bois.  She  was  still  very 
pale,  however,  and  the  dark  lines  under  her  eyes  seemed 
to  speak  of  a  sleepless  night.  I  fancied  that  she  welcomed 
me  a  little  shyly.  She  dropped  her  veil  almost  at  once, 
and  she  did  not  ask  me  to  sit  down. 

"I  hope  that  you  have  some  news  this  morning  of  your 
uncle,  Miss  Delora?"  I  asked. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  have  not  heard  —  anything  of  importance,"  she 
answered. 

"I  am  sorry,"  I  said.  "I  am  afraid  that  you  must  be 
getting  very  anxious." 

She  bent  over  the  button  of  her  glove. 

"Yes,"  she  admitted.  "I  am  very  anxious  !  I  am  very 
anxious  indeed.  I  scarcely  know  what  to  do." 

"Tell  me,  then,"  I  said,  "why  do  you  not  let  me  go 
with  you  to  the  police  and  have  some  inquiries  made? 


ioo  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

If  you  prefer  it,  we  could  go  to  a  private  detective.  I 
really  think  that  something  ought  to  be  done." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  dare  not,"  she  said  simply. 

"Dare  not?"  I  repeated. 

"Because  when  he  returns,"  she  explained,  "he  would 
be  so  very,  very  angry  with  me.  He  is  a  very  eccentric 
man  —  my  uncle.  He  does  strange  things,  and  he  allows 
no  one  to  question  his  actions." 

"But  he  has  no  right,"  I  declared  hotly,  "to  leave 
you  like  this  in  a  strange  hotel,  without  even  a  maid, 
without  a  word  of  farewell  or  explanation.  The  thing  is 
preposterous !" 

She  had  finished  buttoning  her  gloves,  and  looked  up 
at  me  with  a  queer  little  smile  at  the  corner  of  her  lips 
and  her  hands  behind  her. 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  "there  are  so  many 
things  which  it  seems  hard  to  understand.  I  myself  am 
very  unhappy  and  perplexed,  but  I  do  know  what  my 
uncle  would  wish  me  to  do.  He  would  wish  me  to  remain 
quite  quiet,  and  to  wait." 

I  was  silent  for  a  few  moments.  It  was  difficult  to 
reason  with  her. 

"You  have  been  out  this  morning,"  I  said,  a  little 
abruptly. 

"I  have  been  out,"  she  admitted.  "I  do  not  think, 
Capitaine  Rotherby,  that  I  must  tell  you  where  I  have  been, 
but  I  went  to  the  one  place  where  I  thought  that  I  might 
have  news  of  him." 

"You  brought  back  with  you  a  companion." 

"No,  not  a  companion,"  she  interposed  gently.  "You 
must  not  think  that,  Capitaine  Rotherby.  He  was  just  a 
person  who  —  who  had  to  come.  You  are  not  cross  with 


LOUIS,    MAITRE    D'HOTEL  101 

me,"  she  asked,  lifting  her  eyes  a  little  timidly  to  minr. 
"that  there  are  some  things  which  I  do  not  tell  you?" 

"No,  I  am  not  cross!"  I  answered  slowly.  "Only, 
if  you  felt  it  possible,"  I  added,  "to  give  me  your  en- 
tire confidence,  it  seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  better. 
I  will  ask  you  to  believe,"  I  continued,  "that  I  am  not 
merely  a  curious  person.  I  am  —  well,  more  than  a  little 
interested." 

She  held  out  both  her  hands  and  raised  her  eyes  to 
mine.  Through  the  filmy  lace  of  her  veil  I  could  see 
that  they  were  very  soft,  almost  as  though  tears  were 
gathering  there. 

"  Oh !  I  do  believe  you,  Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she 
said,  "and  I  would  be  very,  very  happy  if  I  could  tell  you 
now  all  the  things  which  trouble  me,  all  the  things  which 
I  do  not  understand  !  But  I  may  not.  I  may  not  —  just 
now." 

"Whenever  you  choose,"  I  answered,  "I  shall  be  ready 
to  hear.  Whenever  you  need  my  services,  they  are  yours." 

"You  do  trust  me  a  little,  then  ?"  she  asked  quickly. 

"Implicitly!"  I  answered. 

"You  do  not  mind,"  she  continued,  "that  I  tell  you 
once  more  that  I  am  going  out,  and  that  I  must  go  out 
alone?" 

"Why,  no!"  I  answered.  "If  you  do  not  need  me, 
there  is  an  end  of  it." 

"You  are  very  good  to  me,"  she  said.  "Perhaps  this 
afternoon,  if  you  have  a  few  minutes  to  spare,  we  might 
talk,  eh?" 

"At  any  time  you  say,"  I  answered. 

"At  four  o'clock,  then,"  she  said,  "you  will  come  here 
and  sit  with  me  for  a  little  time.  Perhaps  this  evening, 
if  you  have  nothing  to  do  —  '  she  asked. 


102  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  have  nothing  to  do,"  I  interrupted  promptly. 

"I  do  not  know  how  I  shall  feel,"  she  said,  "about 
going  out,  but  I  would  like  to  see  you,  anyhow." 

"I  shall  come,"  I  promised  her.  "Some  time  within 
the  next  few  days  I  must  go  down  to  Norfolk — ' 

"To  Norfolk?"  she  interrupted  quickly.  "Is  that 
far  away  ?  " 

"Only  a  few  hours,"  I  answered. 

"You  will  stay  there?"  she  exclaimed. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  think  not,"  I  answered.  "I  think  I  shall  come  back 
directly  I  have  seen  my  brother." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  mine. 

"Why?"  she  whispered. 

"In  case  I  can  be  of  service  to  you  !"  I  answered. 

"You  are  so  very  good,  so  very  kind,"  she  said  earnestly; 
"and  to  think  that  when  I  first  saw  you,  I  believed  —  but 
that  does  not  matter!"  she  wound  up  quickly.  "Please 
come  to  the  lift  with  me  and  ring  the  bell.  I  lose  my  way 
in  these  passages." 

I  watched  her  step  into  the  lift,  her  skirts  a  little  raised, 
she  herself,  to  my  mind,  the  perfection  of  feminine 
grace  from  the  tips  of  her  patent  shoes  to  the  black  feathers 
in  her  hat.  She  waved  her  hand  to  me  as  the  lift  shot 
down,  and  I  turned  away  .  .  . 

At  exactly  half-past  one  I  went  down  to  the  cafe  for 
lunch.  The  room  was  fairly  full,  but  almost  the  first 
person  I  saw  was  Louis,  suave  and  courteous,  conduct- 
ing a  party  of  guests  to  their  places.  I  took  my  seat  at 
my  accustomed  table,  and  watched  him  for  a  few  mo- 
ments as  he  moved  about.  What  a  waiter  he  must  have 
been,  I  thought !  His  movements  were  swift  and  noise- 
less. His  eyes  seemed  like  points  of  electricity,  alive  to 


LOUIS,    MAITRE    D'HOTEL  103 

the  smallest  fault  on  the  part  of  his  subordinates,  the 
slightest  frown  on  the  faces  of  his  patrons.  There  was 
scarcely  a  person  lunching  there  who  did  not  feel  that 
he  himself  was  receiving  some  part  of  Louis'  personal 
attention.  One  saw  him  in  the  distance,  suggesting  with 
his  easy  smile  a  suitable  luncheon  to  some  bashful  youth; 
or  found  him,  a  moment  or  two  later,  comparing  remi- 
niscences of  some  wonderful  sauce  with  a  bon  viveur,  an 
habitue  of  the  place.  Such  a  man,  I  thought,  was  wasted 
as  a  maitre  d' hotel.  He  had  the  gifts  of  a  diplomatist,  the 
presence  and  inspiration  of  a  genius. 

I  had  imagined  that  my  entrance  into  the  room  was 
unnoticed,  but  I  found  him  suddenly  bowing  before  my 
table. 

"The  Plat  du  Jour"  he  remarked,  "is  excellent.  Mon- 
sieur should  try  it.  After  a  few  days  of  French  cookery," 
he  continued,  "a  simple  English  dish  is  sometimes  an 
agreeable  relief." 

"Thank  you,  Louis,"  I  answered.  "Tell  me  what  has 
become  of  Mr.  Delora?" 

My  sudden  attack  was  foiled  with  the  consummate  ease 
of  a  master  —  if,  indeed,  the  man  was  not  genuine. 

"Mr.  Delora!"  he  repeated.  "Is  he  not  staying  here, 
—  he  and  his  niece?  I  have  been  looking  for  them  to 
come  into  luncheon." 

"His  niece  is  here,"  I  answered.  "Mr.  Delora  never 
arrived." 

Louis  then  did  a  thing  which  I  have  never  seen  him 
do  before  or  afterwards,  —  he  dropped  something  which 
he  was  carrying  !  It  was  only  a  wine  carte,  and  he  stooped 
and  picked  it  up  at  once  with  a  word  of  graceful  apology. 
But  I  noticed  that  when  he  once  more  stood  erect,  the 
exercise  of  stooping,  so  far  from  having  brought  any  flush 


104  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

into  his  face,  seemed  to  have  driven  from  it  every  atom 
of  color. 

"You  mean  that  Mr.  Delora  went  elsewhere,  Mon- 
sieur?" he  asked. 

I  shook  my  head. 

''They  travelled  up  from  Folkestone,"  I  said,  "in  my 
carriage.  At  Charing  Cross  Mr.  Delora,  who  had  been 
suffering,  he  said,  from  sea-sickness,  and  who  was  cer- 
tainly very  nervous  and  ill  at  ease,  jumped  out  before 
the  train  had  altogether  stopped  and  hurried  off  to  get 
a  hansom  to  come  on  here.  It  had  been  arranged  that  I 
should  bring  his  niece  and  follow  him.  When  we  arrived 
he  had  not  come.  He  has  not  been  here  since.  I  have 
just  left  his  niece,  and  she  assured  me  that  she  had  no 
idea  where  he  was." 

Louis  stood  quite  still. 

"It  is  a  most  singular  occurrence,"  he  said. 

"It  is  the  strangest  thing  I  have  ever  heard  of  in  my 
life,"  I  answered. 

"Monsieur  is  very  much  interested,  doubtless,"  Louis 
said  thoughtfully.  "He  travelled  with  them,  —  he  ex- 
pressed, I  believe,  an  admiration  for  the  young  lady. 
Doubtless  he  is  very  much  interested." 

"So  much  so,  Louis,"  I  answered,  "that  I  intend  to 
do  everything  I  can  to  solve  the  mystery  of  Delora's  dis- 
appearance. I  am  an  idle  man,  and  it  will  amuse  me." 

Louis  shook  his  head. 

"Ah !"  he  said,  "it  is  not  always  safe  to  meddle  in  the 
affairs  of  other  people !  There  are  wheels  within  wheels. 
The  disappearance  of  Mr.  Delora  may  not  be  altogether 
so  accidental  as  it  seems." 

"You  mean —  "  I  exclaimed  hastily. 

"But   nothing,    monsieur,"    Louis    answered,    with    a 


LOUIS,    MAITRE    D'HOTEL  105 

little  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  "I  spoke  quite  generally. 
A  man  disappears,  and  every  one  in  the  world  imme- 
diately talks  of  foul  play,  of  murder,  —  of  many  such 
things.  But,  after  all,  is  that  quite  reasonable?  Most 
often  the  man  who  disappears,  disappears  of  his  own 
accord,  —  disappears  either  from  fear  of  things  that  may 
happen  to  him,  or  because  he  himself  has  some  purpose 
to  serve." 

"You  mean  to  suggest,  then,  Louis,"  I  said,  "that  the 
disappearance  of  Mr.  Delora  is  a  voluntary  one  ?  " 

Once  more  Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Who  can  tell,  monsieur?"  he  answered.  "I  suggest 
nothing.  I  spoke  only  as  one  might  speak,  hearing  of 
this  case.  One  moment,  monsieur." 

He  darted  away  to  welcome  some  new-comers,  ushered 
them  to  their  table,  suggested  their  lunch,  passed  up  and 
down  the  room,  stopping  here  and  there  to  bow  to  a 
patron,  to  examine  the  dishes  standing  ready  to  be  served, 
to  correct  some  fault  of  service.  It  seemed  to  me,  as  I 
watched  him,  that  he  did  a  hundred  things  before  he 
returned.  Yet  in  a  very  few  moments  he  was  standing 
once  more  before  my  table,  examining  with  a  complacent 
air  the  service  of  my  luncheon. 

"Monsieur  will  find  the  petits  carols  excellent,"  he 
declared.  "My  friend  Henry,  he  tries  to  serve  this  dish, 
but  it  is  not  the  same  thing ;  no !  Always  the  vegetables 
must  be  served  in  the  country  where  they  are  grown. 
Monsieur  will  drink  something?" 

"A  pint  of  Moselle,"  I  ordered.  "I  dare  not  order 
whiskey  and  soda  before  you,  Louis." 

He  made  a  little  grimace. 

"It  is  as  monsieur  wishes,"  he  declared,  "but  it  is  a 
drink  without  finesse,  —  a  crude  drink  for  a  man  of  mon- 


106  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

sieur's  tastes.  It  shall  be  the  Moselle  No.  197,"  he  added, 
turning  to  the  waiter.  "  Do  not  forget  the  number.  197," 
he  added,  turning  to  me,  "is  an  absolutely  light  wine, — 
for  luncheon,  delicious!" 

We  were  alone  once  more.  Louis  bent,  smiling,  over 
my  table. 

"Monsieur  is  much  interested,"  he  said,  "in  the  dis- 
appearance of  an  acquaintance,  a  passing  travelling  com- 
panion, but  he  does  not  ask  of  affairs  which  concern  him 
more  gravely." 

"Of  Tapilow!"  I  exclaimed  quickly. 

Louis  nodded. 

"Tapilow  is  in  an  hospital  and  he  will  live,"  Louis  de- 
clared slowly,  "but  all  his  life  he  will  limp,  and  all  his 
life  he  will  carry  a  scar  from  his  forehead  to  his  mouth." 

I  nodded  meditatively. 

"It  is,  perhaps,"  I  answered,  "a  more  complete 
punishment." 

I  fancied  that  in  Louis'  green  eyes  there  shot  for  a  mo- 
ment a  gleam  of  something  like  admiration. 

"Monsieur  has  courage,"  he  murmured. 

"Why  not  ?"  I  answered.  "We  all  of  us  have  a  certain 
amount  of  philosophy,  you  know,  Louis.  It  was  inevit- 
able that  when  that  man  and  I  met,  I  should  try  to  kill 
him.  I  had  no  weapon  that  night.  I  simply  took  him 
into  my  hands.  But  there,  you  know  the  rest.  If  he  had 
died,  I  might  have  had  to  pay  the  penalty.  It  was  a  risk, 
but  you  see  I  had  to  take  it.  The  thing  was  inevitable. 
The  wrong  that  he  had  done  some  one  who  is  very  dear 
to  me  was  too  terrible,  too  hideous,  for  him  to  be  allowed 
to  go  unpunished." 

"When  he  recovers,"  Louis  remarked  thoughtfully, 
"monsieur  will  have  an  enemy." 


LOUIS,    MAITRE    D'HOTEL  107 

"A  great  man,  Louis,  once  declared,"  I  reminded  him, 
"that  one's  enemies  were  the  salt  of  one's  life.  One's 
friends  sometimes  weary.  One's  enemies  give  always  a 
zest  to  existence." 

Again  Louis  was  summoned  away.  I  ate  my  lunch 
and  sipped  my  wine.  Louis  was  right.  It  was  excellent, 
yet  likely  enough  to  be  overlooked  by  the  casual  visitor, 
for  it  was  of  exceedingly  moderate  price. 

So  Tapilow  was  not  likely  to  die !  So  much  the  better, 
perhaps  !  The  time  might  have  come  in  my  life  when 
the  whole  of  that  tragedy  lay  further  back  in  the  shadows, 
and  when  the  thought  that  I  had  killed  a  man,  however 
much  he  had  deserved  it,  might  chill  me.  I  understood 
from  Louis'  very  reticence  that  I  had  nothing  now  to  fear 
from  the  law.  So  far  as  regards  Tapilow  himself,  I  had 
no  fear.  It  was  not  likely  that  he  would  ever  raise  his 
hand  against  me. 

I  dismissed  the  subject  from  my  thoughts.  It  was  just 
then  I  remembered  that,  after  all,  I  had  not  gathered 
from  Louis  a  single  shred  of  information  on  the  subject 
in  which  I  was  most  interested.  I  almost  smiled  when 
I  remembered  how  admirably  he  had  contrived  to  elude 
my  curiosity.  The  only  thing  which  I  gathered  from  his 
manner  was  that  Mr.  Delora's  disappearance  was  un- 
expected by  him.  Never  mind,  the  end  was  not  yet !  I 
ordered  coffee  and  a  liqueur,  and  laid  my  cigarette  case 
upon  the  table.  I  would  wait  until  Louis  chose  to  come 
to  me  once  more.  There  were  certain  things  which  I 
intended  to  ask  him  point  blank. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

LOUIS    EXPLAINS 

Louis  returned  of  his  own  accord  before  long. 

"Monsieur  has  been  well  served?"   he  asked  genially. 

"Excellently,  Louis,"  I  answered,  "so  far  as  the  mere 
question  of  food  goes.  You  have  not,  however,  managed  to 
satisfy  my  curiosity." 

"Monsieur?"  he  asked  interrogatively. 

"Concerning  the  Deloras,"  I  answered. 

Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"But  what  should  I  know?"  he  asked.  "Mr.  Delora, 
he  has  come  here  last  year  and  the  year  before.  He  has 
stayed  for  a  month  or  so.  He  understands  what  he  eats. 
That  is  all.  Mademoiselle  comes  for  the  first  time.  I 
know  her  not  at  all." 

"YVhat  do  you  think  of  his  disappearance,  Louis?"  I 
asked. 

"  AY  hat  should  I  think  of  it,  monsieur  ?   I  know  nothing." 

"Mr.  Delora,  I  am  told,"  I  continued,  "is  a  coffee 
planter  in  South  America." 

"I,  too,"  Louis  admitted,  "have  heard  so  much." 

"How  came  he  to  have  the  entree  to  the  Cafe  des  Deux 
fipiugles  ?  "  I  asked. 

Louis  smiled. 

"I  myself,"  he  remarked,  "am  but  a  rare  visitor  there. 
How  should  I  tell?" 

"Louis,"  said  I,  "why  not  be  honest  with  me?  I  am 
certainly  not  a  person  to  be  afraid  of.  I  am  very  largely 


LOUIS    EXPLAINS  109 

in  your  hands  over  the  Tapilow  affair,  and,  as  you  know,  I 
have  seen  too  much  of  the  world  to  consider  trifles.  I  do 
not  believe  that  Mr.  Delora  caine  to  London  to  sell  his 
crop  of  coffee.  I  do  not  believe  that  you  are  ignorant  of 
his  affairs.  I  do  not  believe  that  his  disappearance  is  so 
much  a  mystery  to  you  as  it  is  to  the  rest  of  us  —  say  to 
me  and  to  mademoiselle  his  niece." 

Louis'  face  was  like  the  face  of  a  sphinx.  He  made  no 
protestations.  He  denied  nothing.  He  waited  simply  to 
see  where  I  was  leading  him. 

"I  am  not  sure,  Louis,"  I  said,  "that  I  do  not  believe  that 
you  had  some  object  in  taking  me  to  the  Cafe  des  Deux 
Epingles  that  night.  Be  honest  with  me.  I  can  be  a 
friend.  I  have  influence  here  and  there,  and,  as  I  think 
you  know,  I  love  adventures.  Tell  me  what  you  know  of 
this  affair.  Tell  me  if  you  had  any  motive  in  taking  me 
to  the  Cafe  des  Deux  fipingles  that  night?" 

Louis  looked  around  the  room  with  keen,  watchful  eyes. 
Without  abandoning  his  attitude  of  graceful  attention  to 
what  I  was  saying,  he  seemed  in  those  few  moments  to  be 
absorbing  every  detail  of  the  progress  of  the  affairs  in  the 
restaurant  itself.  The  arrangement  of  the  service  at  some 
tables  a  little  way  off  seemed  to  annoy  him.  He  frowned 
and  called  one  of  his  subordinates,  speaking  in  a  rapid 
undertone  to  him,  and  with  many  gestures.  The  man 
hurried  away  to  obey  his  instructions,  and  Louis  turned 
to  me. 

"Monsieur,"  said  he,  "there  are  many  times  when  it  is 
not  wise  or  politic  to  tell  the  truth.  There  are  many  times, 
therefore,  when  I  have  to  speak  falsehoods,  but  I  will  con- 
fess that  I  do  not  like  it.  Always  I  would  prefer  the  truth, 
if  it  were  possible.  When  I  saw  you  at  the  Opera  in  Paris 
I  thought  of  you  only  as  one  of  my  best  and  most  valued 


no  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

patrons.  It  was  only  as  we  stood  there  talking  that 
another  idea  came  into  my  head.  I  acted  upon  it.  There 
was  a  reason  why  I  took  you  to  the  Cafe  des  Deux 
Epingles!" 

"Go  on,  Louis,"  I  said.    "Goon." 

"I  took  you  there,"  Louis  continued,  "because  I  knew 
that  some  time  during  the  night  Tapilow  would  come. 
Already  I  knew  what  would  happen  if  you  two  met." 

"You  wished  it  to  happen,  then?"  I  exclaimed. 

Louis  bowed. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  "I  did  wish  it  to  happen  !  The 
person  of  whom  we  have  spoken  is  no  friend  of  mine,  or 
of  my  friends.  He  had  entered  into  a  scheme  with  certain 
of  them,  and  it  was  known  that  he  meant  to  play  them 
false.  He  deserved  punishment,  and  I  was  content  that 
he  should  meet  it  at  your  hands." 

"Is  that  all,  Louis?"  I  asked. 

"Not  all,  monsieur,"  he  continued.  "I  said  to  myself 
that  if  monsieur  quarrels  with  his  enemy,  and  trouble  comes 
of  it,  it  will  be  I  —  I  and  my  friends  —  who  can  assist 
monsieur.  Monsieur  will  owe  us  something  for  this,  and 
the  time  may  come  —  the  time,  indeed,  may  be  very  close 
at  hand  —  when  the  services  of  monsieur  might  be  useful." 

"Come,  Louis,"  I  said,  "this  is  better.  Now  I  am 
beginning  to  understand.  Go  on  a  little  further,  if  you 
please.  I  acknowledge  your  claim  upon  me.  What  can 
I  do?" 

"Monsieur  likes  excitement,"  Louis  murmured. 

"Indeed  I  do  !"  I  answered  fervently. 

Louis  hesitated. 

"If  there  were  some  plot  against  this  man  Delora," 
he  said,  "to  prevent  his  carrying  out  some  undertaking, 
monsieur  would  help  to  frustrate  it  ?  " 


LOUIS    EXPLAINS  in 

"With  all  my  heart,"  I  answered.  "There  is  only  one 
thing  I  would  ask.  \\  hat  is  Mr.  Delora's  undertaking  ?  — 
To  sell  his  coffee?" 

Louis'  inimitable  smile  spread  over  his  face. 

"Ah  !"   he  said,  "monsieur  is  pleased  to  be  facetious  !" 

Then  I  knew  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  learning  a  little, 
at  any  rate,  of  the  truth. 

"Mr.  Delora  has  other  schemes,"  Louis  said  slowly. 

"So  I  imagined,"  I  answered. 

I  saw  Louis  half  turn  his  head.  There  was  no  change 
in  his  tone  nor  in  his  expression.  Naturally,  therefore, 
his  words  sounded  a  little  strangely. 

"My  conversation  with  monsieur,  for  the  moment,  is 
finished,"  he  said.  "There  is  some  one  quite  close  who 
would  give  a  great  deal  to  overhear.  It  follows,  there- 
fore, that  one  says  nothing.  If  monsieur  will  grant  me 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  any  time,  in  his  room,  after  four 
o'clock  —  " 

"At  half-past  four,  Louis,"  I  answered. 

Louis  gave  a  final  little  tAvist  to  my  tablecloth  and 
departed  with  a  bow.  I  saw  then  that  at  the  table  next 
to  mine,  hidden  from  me,  for  the  moment,  by  Louis  him- 
self, was  seated  the  man  who  had  stood  by  our  side  at 
Charing  Cross ! 

After  luncheon  I  took  a  taxicab,  called  on  my  tailor, 
looked  in  at  the  club,  and  bought  some  cigarettes.  The 
whole  of  London  seemed  covered  with  dust  sheets,  to 
smell  of  paint.  My  club  was  in  the  hands  of  furbishers. 
My  tobacconist  was  in  his  house-boat  on  the  Thames.  I 
met  only  one  or  two  acquaintances,  who  seemed  so  sorry 
for  themselves  that  their  depression  was  only  heightened 
by  recognizing  me.  The  streets  were  given  over  to  a 
strangely  clad  crowd  of  pilgrims  from  other  lands,  — • 


ii2  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

American  women  with  short  coats,  pince  nez,  and  Baed- 
ekers, dragging  along  their  mankind  in  neat  suits  and 
outrageous  hats.  One  seemed  to  recognize  nothing 
familiar  even  in  the  shop-windows.  I  was  glad  enough 
to  get  back  to  the  Milan,  especially  so  as  in  the  lift  I  came 
upon  Felicia.  She  started  a  little  at  seeing  me,  and  seemed 
a  little  nervous.  When  the  lift  stopped  at  her  floor  I  got 
out  too. 

"Let  me  walk  with  you  to  your  room,"  I  said.  "It  is 
nearly  four  o'clock." 

"If  you  please,"  she  answered.  "I  wanted  to  speak  to 
you,  Capitaine  Rotherby.  There  was  something  I  forgot 
to  say  before  I  went  out  this  morning." 

I  sighed. 

"There  is  always  a  good  deal  that  I  forget  to  say  when 
I  am  with  you  !"  I  answered. 

She  smiled. 

"You,  too!"  she  exclaimed.  "You  are  beginning  to 
say  the  foolish  things !  But  never  mind,  we  do  not  joke 
now.  I  speak  seriously.  Louis  —  Louis  is  back,  eh  ? " 

"Certainly,"  I  answered.  "He  was  in  the  cafe  at 
luncheon  time." 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  as  we  passed  into  her 
room  together,  "Louis  is  a  very  strange  person.  I  think 
that  he  has  some  idea  in  his  head  about  you  just  n»w. 
Will  you  promise  me  this,  —  that  you  will  be  careful?" 

"Careful?"  I  repeated.  "I  don't  quite  understand; 
but  I'll  promise  all  the  same." 

She  took  hold  of  the  lapels  of  my  coat  as  though  to 
pull  me  down  a  little  towards  her.  I  felt  my  heart  beat 
quickly,  for  the  deep  blue  light  was  in  her  eyes. 

"Ah,  Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  "you  do  not  under- 
stand !  This  man  Louis  —  he  is  not  only  what  he  seems  ! 


LOUIS    EXPLAINS  113 

I  think  that  he  took  you  to  the  Cafe  des  Deux  Epingles 
that  night  with  a  purpose.  He  thinks,  perhaps,  that  you 
are  in  his  power,  eh,  because  you  did  fight  with  the  other 
man  and  hurt  him  badly?  And  Louis  knows!" 

"Please  go  on,"  I  said. 

"I  want  you  to  be  careful,"  she  said.  "If  he  asks  you 
to  do  anything  for  him,  be  sure  that  it  is  something  which 
you  ought  to  do,  —  which  you  may  do  honorably  !  You 
see,  Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  went  on,  "Louis  and  his 
friends  are  not  men  like  you.  They  are  more  subtle,  — 
they  have,  perhaps,  more  brain,  —  but  I  do  not  think  that 
they  are  honest !  Louis  may  try  to  frighten  you  into 
becoming  like  them.  He  may  try  very  many  inducements," 
she  went  on,  looking  up  at  me.  "You  must  not  listen. 
You  must  promise  me  that  you  wilV  not  listen." 

"I  promise  with  all  my  heart,"  I  answered,  "that  neither 
Louis  nor  any  one  else  in  the  world  shall  make  me  do 
anything  which  I  feel  to  be  dishonorable." 

"Louis  is  very  crafty,"  she  whispered.  "He  may  make 
a  thing  seem  as  though  it  were  all  right  when  it  is  not,  you 
understand?" 

"Yes,  I  understand  !"  I  answered.  "But  tell  me,  how 
did  you  get  to  know  so  much  about  Louis  ? " 

"It  does  not  matter  —  that,"  she  answered,  a  l"tle 
impatiently.  "I  have  heard  of  Louis  from  others.  I  know 
the  sort  of  man  he  is.  I  think  that  he  will  make  some 
proposal  to  you.  Will  you  be  careful?" 

"I  promise,"  I  answered  "May  I  see  you  again  to-day  ? 
Remember,"  I  pleaded,  "that  I  am  staying  here  only  for 
your  sake.  I  ought  to  have  gone  to  Norfolk  this  afternoon." 

She  drew  a  little  sigh. 

"I  wonder!"  she  said,  half  to  herself.  "I  think,  per- 
haps, —  yes,  we  will  dine  together,  monsieur,  you  and 


H4  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

I !"  she  said.  "You  must  take  me  somewhere  where  it  is 
quite  quiet  —  where  no  one  will  see  us  !" 

"Not  down  in  the  cafe,  then?"    I  asked  smiling. 

She  held  up  her  hands  in  horror. 

"But  no  !"  she  declared.  "If  it  is  possible,  let  us  get 
away  somewhere  without  Louis  knowing." 

"It  can  be  arranged,"  I  assured  her.  "May  I  come  in 
and  see  you  later  on,  and  you  shall  tell  me  where  to  meet 

you?" 

She  thought  for  a  minute. 

"At  seven  o'clock,"  she  answered.  "Please  go  away 
now.  I  have  a  dressmaker  coming  to  see  me." 

I  turned  away,  but  I  had  scarcely  gone  half  a  dozen 
paces  before  she  called  me  back. 

"Capitaine  Rotherb^,"  she  said,  "there  is  something  to 
tell  you." 

I  waited  expectantly. 

"Yes?"    I  murmured. 

She  avoided  meeting  my  eyes. 

"You  need  not  trouble  any  further  about  my  uncle," 
she  said.  "He  has  returned." 

"Returned!"  I  exclaimed.    "When?" 

"A  very  short  time  ago,"  she  answered.  "He  is  very 
unwell.  It  will  not  be  possible  for  any  one  to  see  him  for 
a  short  time.  But  he  has  returned  !" 

"I  am  very  glad  indeed,"  I  assured  her. 

Her  face  showed  no  signs  of  exultation  or  relief.  I  could 
not  help  being  puzzled  at  her  demeanor.  She  gave  me  no 
further  explanation. 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  door,  and  she  motioned  me 
away. 

"The  dressmaker  !"   she  exclaimed. 

I  went  upstairs  to  my  rooms  to  wait  for  Louis. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A   DANGEROUS   IMPERSONATION 

Louis  appeared,  as  ever,  punctual  to  the  moment.  He 
carried  a  menu  card  in  his  hand.  He  had  the  air  of  having 
come  to  take  my  orders  for  some  projected  feast.  I  closed 
the  door  of  the  outer  hall  and  the  door  of  my  sitting-room. 

"Now,  Louis,"  I  said,  "we  are  not  only  alone,  but  we 
are  secure  from  interruption.  Tell  me  exactly  what  it  is 
that  you  have  in  your  mind." 

Louis  declined  the  chair  to  which  I  waved  him.  He 
leaned  slightly  back  against  the  table,  facing  me. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "I  have  sometimes 
thought  that  men  like  yourself,  of  spirit,  who  have  seen 
something  of  the  world,  must  find  it  very  wearisome 
to  settle  down  to  lead  the  life  of  an  English  farmer 
gentleman." 

"I  am  not  proposing  to  do  anything  of  the  sort,"  I 
answered. 

Louis  nodded. 

"For  you,"  he  said,  "perhaps  it  would  be  impossible. 
But  tell  me,  then,  what  is  there  that  you  care  to  do  ?  1 
will  tell  you.  You  will  give  half  your  time  to  sport.  The 
rest  of  the  time  you  will  eat  and  drink  and  grow  fat.  You 
will  go  to  Marienbad  and  Carlsbad,  and  you  will  begin 
to  wonder  about  your  digestion,  find  yourself  growing 
bald,  —  you  will  realize  that  nothing  in  the  world  ages 
a  man  so  much  as  lack  of  excitement." 

"I  grant  you  everything,  Louis,"  I  said.  "What  ex- 
citement have  you  to  offer  me  ? " 


n6  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Three  nights  ago,"  Louis  said,  "I  saw  you  myself 
take  a  man  into  your  hands  with  the  intention  of  killing 
him.  You  broke  the  law !" 

"I  did,"  I  admitted,  "and  I  would  do  it  again." 

"Would  you  break  the  law  in  other  ways?"  Louis 
asked. 

"Under  similar  circumstances,  yes!"   I  answered. 

"Listen,  monsieur,"  Louis  continued.  "It  is  our 
pleasure  to  save  you  from  the  unpleasant  consequences 
which  would  certainly  have  befallen  you  in  any  other  place 
than  the  Cafe  des  Deux  fipingles  after  your  —  shall  we 
say  misunderstanding  ?  —  with  James  Tapilow." 

"I  admit  my  indebtedness,  Louis,"  I  answered. 

"Will  you  do  something  to  repay  it?"  Louis  asked, 
raising  his  eyes  to  mine. 

"You  will  have  to  tell  me  what  it  is  first,"  I  said. 

"It  is  concerned  with  the  disappearance  of  Mr.  Delora," 
Louis  said. 

"But  Mr.  Delora  has  returned!"  I  exclaimed.  "His 
niece  told  me  so  herself.  He  has  returned,  but  he  is  very 
unwell  —  confined  to  his  room,  I  believe." 

"It  is  the  story  which  has  been  agreed  upon,"  Louis 
answered.  "We  were  obliged  to  protect  ourselves  against 
the  police  and  the  newspaper  people,  but,  nevertheless,  it 
is  not  the  truth.  Mr.  Delora  has  not  returned  !" 

"Does  mademoiselle  know  that?"   I  asked  quickly. 

"She  does  not,"  Louis  admitted.  "She  has  been  told 
exactly  what  she  told  you,  —  that  her  uncle  had  returned, 
but  that  he  was  ill  and  must  be  kept  quiet  for  a  little  time. 
It  was  necessary  that  she  should  believe  his  room  oc^u- 
pied,  for  reasons  which  you  will  understand  later.  She 
shall  be  told  the  truth  very  soon." 

I   was   conscious   of   a  distinct   sense  of   relief.     The 


A   DANGEROUS    IMPERSONATION       117 

thought  that  she  might  have  told  me  a  falsehood  had 
given  me  a  sudden  stab. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Delora,  then?"  I  asked. 

"That  we  can  guess,"  Louis  said.  "We  want  you  to  go 
to  him." 

"Very  well,  Louis,"  I  said.  "I  am  perfectly  agreeable, 
only  you  must  tell  me  who  this  Mr.  Delora  is,  why  he  is 
in  hiding,  and  who  you  mean  when  you  say  'we'." 

"Monsieur,"  Louis  said,  "if  it  rested  with  me  alone  I 
would  tell  you  all  these  things.  I  would  give  you  our  con- 
fidence freely,  because  we  are  a  little  company  who  trust 
freely  when  we  are  sure.  The  others,  however,  do  not 
know  you  as  I  know  you,  and  I  have  the  right  to  divulge 
only  certain  things  to  you.  Mr.  Delora  has  come  to  this 
country  on  a  mission  of  peculiar  danger.  He  has  a  secret 
in  his  possession  which  is  of  immense  value,  and  there  are 
others  who  are  not  our  friends  who  know  of  it.  Mr. 
Delora  had  a  signal  at  Charing  Cross  that  there  was 
danger  in  taking  up  his  residence  here.  That  is  why  he 
slipped  away  quietly  and  is  lying  now  in  hiding.  If  mon- 
sieur indeed  desires  an  adventure,  I  could  propose  one  to 
him." 

"Go  ahead,  Louis,"  I  said. 

"Let  it  be  understood  that  Mr.  Delora  has  returned.  — 
As  I  have  already  told  you,  he  has  not  returned.  The  door 
of  his  room  is  locked,  and  no  one  is  permitted  to  enter. 
It  is  believed  that  to-night  an  attempt  wTill  be  made  to 
force  a  way  into  that  room  and  to  rob  its  occupant." 

"  The  room  is  empty,  you  say  ?  There  is  no  one  there  ?  " 
I  interrupted. 

"Precisely,  monsieur,"  Louis  said,  "but  if  some  one 
were  there  who  was  strong  and  brave  it  might  be  possible 
to  teach  a  lesson  to  those  who  have  played  us  false,  and 


n8  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

who  have  planned  evil  things  !  If  that  some  one  were  you, 
Captain  Rotherby,  we  should  consider  —  Monsieur  De- 
cresson  and  the  others  would  consider  —  that  your  debt 
to  them  was  paid  !" 

I  whistled  softly  to  myself.  I  began  to  see  Louis'  idea. 
I  was  to  enter,  somehow  or  other,  the  room  in  which  Mr. 
Delora  was  supposed  to  be,  to  remain  there  concealed, 
and  to  await  this  attack  which,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
they  were  expecting.  And  then,  as  the  possibilities  con- 
nected with  such  an  event  spread  themselves  out  before 
me,  my  sense  of  humor  suddenly  asserted  itself,  and,  to 
Louis'  amazement,  I  laughed  in  his  face.  I  came  back 
from  this  world  of  fanciful  figures,  of  mysterious  robberies, 
of  attempted  assassinations,  to  the  world  of  every-day 
things.  It  was  Louis  —  the  maitre  d'hotel,  the  man  who 
had  ordered  my  Plat  du  Jour  and  selected  my  Moselle  — 
who  spoke  of  these  things  so  calmly  in  my  own  sitting- 
room,  with  a  menu  card  in  his  hand,  and  a  morocco-bound 
wine  list  sticking  out  of  his  breast  pocket.  I  was  not 
in  any  imaginary  city  but  in  London,  —  city  of  tragedies, 
indeed,  but  tragedies  of  a  homelier  sort.  It  was  not  pos- 
sible that  such  things  could  be  happening  here,  in  an 
atmosphere  which,  through  familiarity,  had  become  almost 
commonplace.  Was  I  to  believe  that  Louis,  my  favorite 
maitre  d'hotel,  my  fellow  schemer  in  many  luncheon  and 
dinner  parties,  my  authority  upon  vintages,  my  gastronomic 
good  angel,  was  one  of  a  band  of  conspirators,  who  played 
with  life  and  death  as  though  they  had  been  the  balls  of  a 
juggler?  Was  I  to  believe  that  there  existed  even  in  this 
very  hotel,  which  for  years  had  been  my  home,  the  seeds 
of  these  real  tragical  happenings  which  sometimes,  though 
only  half  disclosed,  blaze  out  upon  the  world  as  a  revela- 
tion of  the  great  underground  world  of  crime?  I  found 


A    DANGEROUS    IMPERSONATION      ng 

it  almost  impossible  to  take  Louis  seriously.  I  could  not 
focus  my  thoughts. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "is  this  a  great  joke,  or  are  you  talking 
to  me  in  sober,  serious  earnest?" 

"I  am  talking  in  earnest,  monsieur,"  Louis  said  slowly. 
"I  have  not  exaggerated  or  spoken  a  word  to  you  which  is 
not  the  truth." 

"Let  me  understand  this  thing  a  little  more  clearly,"  I 
said.  "What  has  Ferdinand  Delora  done  that  he  need 
fear  a  murderous  assault?  What  has  he  done  to  make 
enemies?  Is  he  a  criminal,  or  are  those  who  seek  him 
criminals  ?" 

"He  carries  with  him,"  Louis  said  slowly,  "a  secret 
which  will  produce  a  great  fortune.  There  are  others  who 
think  that  they  have  a  right  to  share  in  it.  It  is  those 
others  who  are  his  enemies.  It  is  those  others  who 
hope  to  attain  by  force  what  they  could  gain  by  no  other 
means." 

A  sudden  inspiration  prompted  my  next  question. 

"Was  Tapilow  one  of  those?"   I  demanded. 

Louis  nodded  gravely. 

"Monsieur  Tapilow  was  one  of  those  who  claimed  a 
share,  but  he  was  not  willing  to  run  the  smallest  risk,"  he 
assented. 

"And  for  that  reason,"  I  remarked,  "he  is  well  out  of 
the  way !  I  understand.  There  is  one  more  question, 
Louis,  and  it  is  one  which  you  must  answer  me  truthfully. 
You  can  imagine  what  it  is  when  I  tell  you  that  it  concerns 
mademoiselle !" 

"Mademoiselle  is  innocent  of  the  knowledge  of  any  of 
these  things,"  Louis  declared  earnestly.  "She  is  a  very 
charming  and  a  very  beautiful  young  lady,  but  if  ever  a 
young  lady  needed  friends,  she  does ! " 


120  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Why  is  she  here  at  all?"  I  demanded.  "Why  was 
she  not  left  behind  in  Paris  ?  If  there  is  no  part  for  her  to 
play  in  this  little  comedy,  it  seems  to  me  that  she  would 
have  been  much  better  out  of  the  way." 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  Louis  said,  "there  was  a  reason, 
and  some  day  you  will  understand  it  —  why  it  was  neces- 
sary that  she  should  come  to  London  with  her  uncle.  I 
can  tell  you  no  more.  You  must  not  ask  me  any 
more." 

I  looked  into  Louis'  impenetrable  face.  I  could  learn 
nothing  there.  His  words  had  left  me  partly  unconvinced. 
Somehow  I  felt  that  the  only  time  he  had  spoken  the 
entire  truth  was  when  he  had  spoken  of  Felicia.  Yet 
it  was  certainly  true  that  I  owed  these  people  some- 
thing, and  I  had  no  wish  to  shrink  from  paying  my 
debt. 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "if  I  take  Delora's  place  to-night, 
and  if  your  scheme  is  successful,  does  that  free  him  ?  W7ill 
he  be  able  to  come  back?  Will  it  be  for  the  benefit  of 
mademoiselle?" 

"But  most  certainly!"  Louis  answered  earnestly. 
"It  is  not  an  organization  against  which  we  fight.  It  is 
one  or  two  desperate  men  who  believe  themselves  robbed. 
Once  they  are  out  of  the  way,  Delora  can  walk  the  streets 
a  free  man.  There  would  be  nothing,"  he  added,  "to  pre- 
vent your  seeking  his  friendship  or  the  friendship  of  his 
niece." 

"Very  well,"  I  agreed.  "I  will  spend  the  night  in  Mr. 
Delora's  rooms.  I  shall  leave  it  to  you  to  make  all  the 
arrangements." 

Louis  looked  at  me  with  a  curious  expression  in  his  face. 

"You  understand,  monsieur,"  he  said  slowly,  "that 
there  may  be  danger?" 


A    DANGEROUS    IMPERSONATION      121 

"Naturally  I  understand,"  I  said.  "If  it  comes  to 
a  fight,  I  shall  be  prepared,  and  I  have  had  a  little 
experience." 

"However  well  armed  you  may  be,"  Louis  said,  "there 
will  be  a  risk.  Our  enemies  are  swift  and  silent.  One  of 
them,  at  any  rate,  is  an  acconlplished  criminal.  They  are 
too  clever  for  us  unaided.  I  could  take  Mademoiselle 
Delora  to  Scotland  Yard  to-day,  and  I  could  tell  them 
what  we  fear.  They  might  patrol  the  hotel  with  the  police, 
and  even  then  you  would  wake  in  the  night  and  find  some 
one  by  your  bedside." 

"Bv  the  bye,  Louis,"  I  said,  "why  all  this  mystery? 
According  to  you,  Delora  is  an  honest  man.  Why  don't 
you  go  to  the  police?" 

Louis  shook  his  head. 

"We  are  not  free  to  do  that,"  he  said.  "Delora  is 
honest,  but  it  is  a  great  secret  which  he  controls,  and  the 
only  chance  of  using  it  successfully  is  to  keep  it  a  secret 
from  the  whole  world  !" 

"How  am  I  to  be  introduced  into  the  room,  Louis?'* 
I  asked. 

"That,"  he  answered,  "will  be  easy.  There  are  two 
lifts,  as  you  know,  —  one  from  the  smoking-room  and  one 
from  the  entrance  hall.  The  number  of  Mr.  Delora's 
apartment  is  157.  Here,  by  the  bye,  monsieur,  is  a 
key." 

I  took  it  and  put  it  in  my  waistcoat  pocket. 

"You  will  ascend  by  the  lift  from  the  smoking-room  to 
the  top  floor,"  Louis  continued.  "You  can  then  descend 
by  the  other  lift  to  the  fifth  floor,  and  walk  boldly  into  the 
sitting-room.  The  door  on  the  right  will  be  Mr.  Delora's 
bedroom,  and  of  that  there  will  be,  after  midnight,  a  key 
upon  the  mantelpiece  in  the  sitting-room." 


122  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"But  Miss  Delora?"  I  asked.  "What  of  her?  The 
sitting-room  connects,  also,  with  her  apartments." 

"Mademoiselle  will  be  told  something  of  this  during  the 
evening,"  Louis  answered.  "It  will  be  better.  She  will 
have  retired  and  be  locked  in  her  rcom  long  before  it  will 
be  necessary  for  you  to  ascend." 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "But  now  for  the  practical  side  of 
it.  If  anything  really  happens,  what  is  to  be  my  excuse 
for  occupying  those  apartments  to-night?" 

"I  will  provide  you  with  a  sufficient  one  later  on," 
Louis  promised.  "You  will  dine  downstairs?" 

"Possibly,"  I  answered. 

"In  which  case  we  can  have  a  little  conversation," 
Louis  remarked. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "what  sort  of  an  affair  is  this,  really, 
in  which  I  am  mixing  myself  up  ?  Am  I  one  of  a  gang  of 
magnificent  criminals,  a  political  conspirator,  or  a  fool  ? " 

Louis  smiled. 

"Moasieur,"  he  said,  "I  found  you  very  weary  of  life. 
I  will  put  you  in  the  way  of  finding  excitement.  Monsieur 
should  ask  no  more  than  that.  There  are  many  men  of 
his  temperament  who  would  give  years  of  their  life  for  the 
chance." 

He  left  me  with  his  usual  polite  bow.  I  strolled  after 
him  down  the  corridor  a  moment  or  so  later,  but  I  just 
missed  the  lift  in  which  he  descended.  Looking  down,  I 
saw  that  it  had  stopped  at  the  fifth  floor.  It  seemed  as 
though  Louis  had  gone  to  visit  number  157 ! 


CHAPTER  XVI 

TWO   OF   A   TRADE 

I  SMOKED  two  pipes,  one  after  the  other,  in  a  vain  attempt 
to  draw  out  some  definite  sequence  of  facts  from  the 
tangled  web  of  happenings  into  which  I  seemed  to  have 
strayed.  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Fate,  which  had 
bestowed  on  me  a  physique  of  more  than  ordinary  size,  a 
sound  constitution,  and  muscles  which  had  filled  my  study 
with  various  kinds  of  trophies,  had  not  been  equally  gen- 
erous in  her  dispensation  of  brains.  Try  as  I  would,  I 
could  make  nothing  of  the  situation  in  which  I  found 
myself.  The  most  reasonable  thing  seemed  to  be  to  con- 
clude that  Louis  was  one  of  a  gang  of  thieves,  that  I  was 
about  to  become  their  accomplice,  and  that  Felicia  was 
simply  the  Delilah  with  whom  these  people  had  summoned 
me  to  their  aid.  Such  a  conclusion,  however,  was  not 
flattering,  nor  did  it  please  me  in  any  way.  Directly  I 
allowed  myself  to  think  of  Felicia,  I  believed  in  her. 
There  were  none  of  the  arts  of  the  adventuress  about  her 
methods,  her  glances,  or  her  words.  She  did  not,  for 
instance,  in  the  least  resemble  the  young  lady  with  tke 
turquoises,  who  had  also  been  good  enough  to  take  an 
interest  in  me !  I  gave  the  whole  thing  up  at  last.  Per- 
haps by  the  morrow  I  should  know  more,  —  if,  indeed,  I 
thought,  a  little  grimly,  I  knew  anything !  I  could  not 
help  feeling  that  this  little  enterprise  to  which  I  had  com- 
mitted myself  might  turn  out  to  be  a  serious  affair.  Even 


I24  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Louis  had  not  tried  to  minimize  the  risks.  I  felt,  however, 
that  if  it  led  me  to  any  better  understanding  of  the  situa- 
tion, I  could  welcome  whatever  danger  it  involved. 

A  little  before  six  o'clock  I  turned  to  look  at  the  weather, 
which  had  been  threatening  all  day,  meaning  to  take  a 
stroll.  The  rain,  however,  was  coming  down  in  sheets,  so 
I  descended  instead  to  the  little  smoking-room,  thinking 
that  I  might  find  there  some  one  whom  I  knew.  I  had 
already  ensconced  myself  in  an  easy-chair  and  ordered  a 
whiskey  and  soda,  when  I  became  conscious  that  the 
very  person  with  whom  my  thoughts  were  occupied  was 
in  the  room  and  within  a  few  feet  of  me. 

Felicia  was  sitting  on  a  couch,  and  by  her  side  a  man 
whom  I  recognized  at  once.  It  was  the  companion  of  my 
lady  of  the  turquoises !  Apparently  they  had  not  noticed 
my  entrance.  They  continued  for  several  moments  to  be 
unaware  of  it.  Felicia  was  paler  than  ever.  She  seemed 
to  be  struggling,  as  she  sat  there,  to  conceal  her  fear  and 
aversion  for  the  man  who  leaned  toward  her,  talking  in 
rapid  French,  with  many  gesticulations.  He  was  badly 
dressed  in  a  travelling  suit  of  French  cut,  with  a  waistcoat 
buttoned  almost  to  the  chin.  A  floppy  black  tie  hung  down 
over  the  lapels  of  his  coat.  His  black  moustache,  which 
seemed  to  have  suffered  from  the  crossing,  was  drooping, 
and  gave  to  his  mouth  a  particularly  sinister  expression. 
He  had  a  neck  of  unusual  size,  and  the  fat  ran  in  ridges 
to  the  back  of  his  scalp,  worked  up  by  his  collar  as  he 
moved  his  head  rapidly  with  every  sentence.  He  seemed 
altogether  unable  to  sit  still  or  control  himself.  His  boots 
—  brown  tops  with  narrow  patent  vamps  —  beat  a  tattoo 
upon  the  floor.  No  wonder  that  Felicia  shrunk  in,to  the 
corner  of  her  lounge  !  I  felt  that  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  sit  and  watch  them  any  longer.  I  rose  to  my  feet. 


TWO    OF    A    TRADE  125 

Felicia  saw  me  first,  —  then  her  companion.  Felicia's  first 
expression,  to  my  intense  joy,  was  one  of  relief.  Her 
companion,  on  the  other  hand,  darted  towards  me  a  per- 
fectly murderous  glance.  I  advanced  toward  them,  and 
Felicia  half  rose. 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  "oh,  I  am  very  glad  to 
see  you  !  This  man  here  who  sits  by  my  side  —  he  does  not 
speak  one  word  of  English.  Listen,  I  beg.  Go  and  find 
some  one  in  the  cafe  —  you  know  whom  I  mean,  I  will 
not  mention  his  name.  Go  and  find  him,  and  bring  him 
here.  Tell  him  that  Bartot  is  here  and  is  terrifying  me, 
that  he  threatens  all  the  time.  Please  bring  him." 

"I  will  go  at  once,"  I  answered. 

I  bowed  and  turned  away.  Of  Bartot  I  took  no  notice, 
though  he  rose  at  once  and  seemed  about  to  address  me. 
I  hurried  into  the  cafe,  but  it  was  a  slack  hour  and  there 
were  no  signs  of  Louis. 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  to  find  Louis?"  I  asked  one 
of  the  waiters. 

The  man  glanced  at  the  clock  and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Perhaps  in  his  office,"  he  said,  "but  Monsieur  Louis 
often  goqs  out  for  an  hour  about  this  time." 

"Where  is  his  office?"  I  asked. 

The  man  led  me  into  the  service  room  and  turned  to  the 
left.  He  knocked  at  a  closed  door,  and  I  heard  a  sleepy 
voice  say  — 

"Come  in!" 

I  entered,  and  found  Louis  in  a  tiny  little  sitting-room, 
curled  up  on  a  sofa.  In  his  hand  was  a  pocket-book  and 
a  pencil.  He  appeared  to  have  been  making  memoranda. 
He  sprang  to  his  feet  as  I  entered. 

"Monsieur!"  he  exclaimed,  putting  away  the  pocket- 
book  and  rising  to  his  feet. 


126  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Sorry  to  disturb  you,  Louis,'"!  said.  "Miss  Delora 
is  in  the  little  smoking-room,  and  Bartot  is  there,  —  just 
arrived,  I  suppose,  from  Paris.  He  is  terrifying  her.  She 
sent  me  to  fetch  you." 

I  saw  Louis'  lips  curl  into  something  which  I  can  only 
describe  as  a  snarl.  After  that  moment  I  never  even 
partially  trusted  him  again.  He  looked  like  a  wild  animal, 
one  of  those  who  creep  through  the  hidden  places  and 
love  to  spring  upon  their  prey  unseen  ! 

"So!"   he  muttered.    "I  come,  monsieur.    I  come." 

He  followed  me  out  and  into  the  restaurant.  As  he 
passed  along  his  features  composed  themselves.  He  bent 
courteously  toward  me.  He  even  opened  the  door  of  the 
little  smoking-room  and  insisted  that  I  should  precede 
him.  I  stood  on  one  side  then  while  he  went  up  to  the 
pair.  I  heard  Felicia  give  a  little  murmur  of  relief.  Bartot 
turned  round  fiercely.  The  two  faced  one  another,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  unutterable  things  passed  between  them. 
They  were  like  wild  animals,  indeed,  —  Louis  silent, 
composed,  serene,  yet  with  a  jaguar-like  glare  in  his  eyes, 
his  body  poised,  as  though  to  spring  or  defend  himself, 
as  circumstances  might  dictate.  Bartot,  who  had  risen  to 
his  feet,  was  like  a  clumsy  but  powerful  beast,  showing  his 
fierce  primitivism  through  the  disguise  of  clothes  and  his 
falsely  human  form.  To  me  those  few  seconds  were  ab- 
solutely thrilling !  There  was  another  man  in  the  room, 
who  continued  writing  as  though  nothing  were  happen- 
ing. A  couple  of  strangers  passed  through  on  their  way 
to  the  bar,  and  seemed  to  see  nothing  except  the  meeting 
of  Louis  —  the  maitre  d'hotel  —  with  a  possible  client. 
Felicia  had  let  fall  her  veil,  so  that  her  terror  was  no 
longer  written  in  her  face.  She  had  separated  herself  now 
from  Bartot,  and  with  an  involuntary  movement  I  came 


TWO    OF    A    TRADE  127 

over  to  her  side.  Then  the  tension  was  suddenly  broken. 
It  was  Louis  who  showed  his  teeth,  but  it  was  with  the 
razor-edge  of  civility. 

"Monsieur  Bartot  is  very  welcome,"  he  said,  speaking 
in  French.  "Monsieur  Bartot  has  promised  so  often  to 
make  this  visit,  and  has  always  disappointed  us." 

Bartot  was  no  match  for  this  sort  of  thing.  His  few 
muttered  words  at  first  were  scarcely  coherent.  Louis 
bent  towards  him,  always  with  the  same  attitude  of  polite 
attention. 

"If  there  is  anything  I  can  do,"  he  said  softly.  "Mon- 
sieur has  already,  without  doubt,  selected  bis  rooms.  It 
will  give  us  great  pleasure  to  see  him  in  the  cafe  this 
evening." 

Bartot  commenced  to  talk,  but  his  voice  was  almost 
inaudible,  it  was  so  thick  with  passion. 

"I  come  to  know  what  it  means !  It  is  not  for  pleasure 
that  I  come  to  this  villainous  country  1  I  come  to  know 
what  the  game  is  !  I  will  be  told  !  Mademoiselle  here  — 
she  tells  me  that  her  uncle  has  been  lost,  and  now  that  he 
is  ill.  She  will  not  let  me  see  him'" 

Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Alas  !"  he  said.  "That,  I  know,  is  quite  impossible. 
Monsieur  Delora  was  taken  ill  on  the  voyage  over.  This 
gentleman,"  he  added,  turning  to  me,  "will  bear  me  out 
when  I  say  this.  He  is  now  in  bed,  and  a  doctor  is  with 
him.  I  am  sorry,  but  it  would  not  be  possible  to  have 
him  disturbed." 

"Then  I  wait!"  Bartot  declared,  folding  his  arms. 
"I  wait  till  monsieur  recovers!" 

"Why  not  ?"  Louis  asked.  "It  is  what  we  most  desire. 
We  will  do  our  best  to  make  monsieur  comfortable  here." 

I  felt  Felicia's  fingers  press  my  arm.    I  glanced  towards 


128  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

her,  and  she  made  a  motion  toward  the  door.    We  moved 
off,  unnoticed,  and  I  rang  the  bell  for  the  lift. 

"Oh!  Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  exclaimed,  "once 
more  you  have  come  to  my  help !  I  was  no  frightened  at 
that  man  !  He  did  speak  to  me  so  angrily,  and  he  did  not 
believe  anything  I  told  him.  Indeed,  it  is  true  that  my 
uncle  is  ill.  You  do  not  disbelieve  that,  do  you,  Capitaine 
Rotherby?" 

The  lift  arrived  a  little  opportunely  for  me.  Then  it 
stopped  at  the  fifth  floor. 

"We  must  walk  softly,"  she  said.  "My  uncle  is 
asleep,  and  the  doctor  says  that  he  must  not  be 
wakened." 

"You  are  going  to  have  dinner  with  me?"   I  asked. 

"I  think  so,"  she  answered.  "Yes,  I  think  so!  Let 
us  go  somewhere  a  long  way  off.  Take  me  somewhere 
quiet,  Capitaine  Rotherby,  where  I  shall  not  see  any  one 
I  know." 

"I  will,"  I  promised  her.  "Put  on  a  high-necked  gown 
and  a  hat.  I  will  take  you  where  there  is  plenty  of 
music  but  few  people.  We  will  get  a  quiet  table  and  talk. 
Indeed,"  I  continued,  "there  are  several  things  which  I 
want  to  say  to  you,  Miss  Delora." 

"And  I,"  she  murmured.  "It  will  be  delightful.  But 
ster>  gently,  monsieur.  He  must  not  be  awakened." 

She  pointed  to  that  closed  door,  and  I  looked  stead- 
fastly into  her  eyes.  It  was  not  possible  that  she  was 
acting.  I  was  convinced  that  she  believed  that  her  uncle 
was  really  in  the  next  room. 

"I  call  for  you  here,"  I  whispered,  "at  half-past 
seven." 

"I  shall  be  ready,"  she  answered,  "quite  ready.  You 
must  not  b«  late  or  I  shall  be  impatient.  Oh  !"  she  added, 


TWO    OF    A    TRADE  129 

with  a  little  impulsive  gesture,"  I  am  beginning  to  hate  this 
place.  I  begin  to  long  to  escape  from  it  forever.  I  look 
forward  so  much  to  going  away,  —  the  further  the  better, 
Capitaine  Rotherby !  I  shall  be  ready  when  you  come. 
Good-bye!" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A  VEBY  SPECIAL   DINNER 

AT  seven  o'clock  that  evening  I  passed  through  the  cafe 
on  my  way  to  the  American  bar.  There  was  already  a 
good  sprinkling  of  early  diners  there,  and  Louis  was  busy 
as  usual.  Directly  he  saw  me,  however,  he  came  forward 
with  his  usual  suave  bow. 

"The  table  in  the  left-hand  corner,"  he  said,  "is  engaged 
for  monsieur.  I  have  also  taken  the  liberty  of  commanding 
a  little  dinner." 

"  But  I  am  not  dining  here,  Louis  !"  I  protested. 

Louis'  expression  was  one  of  honest  surprise. 

"Monsieur  is  serious?"  he  inquired.  "It  is  only  a 
short  time  ago  that  I  was  talking  with  Mademoiselle 
Delora,  and  she  told  me  that  she  was  dining  with  you 
here." 

"I  am  dining  with  Miss  Delora,"  I  answered,  "but  I 
certainly  did  not  understand  that  it  was  to  be  here." 

Louis  smiled. 

"Perhaps,"  he  remarked,  "mademoiselle  had,  for  the 
moment,  the  idea  of  going  away  for  dinner.  If  so,  believe 
me,  she  has  changed  her  mind.  Monsieur  will  see  when  he 
calls  for  her." 

I  passed  on  thoughtfully.  There  was  something  about 
this  which  I  scarcely  understood.  It  seemed  almost  as 
though  Louis  had  but  to  direct,  and  every  one  obeyed. 
Was  I,  too,  becoming  one  of  his  myrmidons  ?  Was  I,  too, 
to  dine  at  his  cafe  because  he  had  spoken  the  word  ? 


A    VERY    SPECIAL    DINNER  131 

I  made  my  way  to  number  157  precisely  at  half-past 
seven.  Felicia  was  waiting  for  me,  and  for  a  moment  I 
forgot  to  ask  any  questions,  —  forgot  everything  except  the 
pleasure  of  looking  at  her.  She  wore  a  biack  lace  gown,  — 
beautifully  cut,  and  modelled  to  perfection  to  reveal  the 
delicate  outline  of  her  figure,  —  a  rope  of  pearls,  and  a 
large  hat  and  veil,  arranged  as  only  those  can  arrange 
them  who  have  learnt  how  to  dress  in  Paris.  She  looked 
at  me  a  little  anxiously. 

"You  like  me?"  she  asked.    "I  will  do?" 

"You  are  charming,"  I  answered.  "You  take  my 
breath  away.  Indeed,  mademoiselle,  I  have  never  dined 
with  any  one  so  charming." 

She  dropped  me  a  little  curtsey.  Then  her  face  clouded 
over. 

"There  is  something  I  have  to  ask,"  she  said,  looking 
at  me  ruefully.  "  Do  you  mind  if  we  dine  downstairs  ?  " 

"Louis  has  already  told  me  that  it  is  your  wish,"  I 
answered. 

She  picked  up  the  train  of  her  gown.  I  fancied  that  she 
turned  away  in  order  that  I  should  not  see  her  face. 

"He  was  so  disappointed,"  she  murmured,  "and  he 
has  been  so  kind,  I  did  not  like  to  disappoint  him." 

"How  is  your  uncle?"  I  asked. 

"I  have  not  yet  been  allowed  to  see  him,"  she  answered, 
"  but  they  tell  me  that  he  is  better.  If  he  has  a  good  night 
to-night,  to-morrow  morning  I  may  go  to  him." 

"I  certainly  hope  that  he  will  have  a  good  night!"  I 
remarked.  "Shall  we  go  down  ?" 

"If  you  are  ready,"  she  answered.  "There,  you  shall 
carry  my  purse  and  handkerchief  while  I  put  on  my  gloves. 
To  put  them  on  is  foolish,  is  it  not,  when  one  does  not 
leave  the  place  ?  Still,  one  must  do  these  things." 


132  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Your  purse  is  heavy,"  I  remarked,  swinging  it  on  my 
finger. 

"I  cany  always  with  me  much  money,"  she  answered. 
"It  is  my  uncle's  idea.  Some  day,  I  tell  him,  one  of  us  will 
be  robbed.  He  has  always  one  or  two  hundred  pounds  in 
his  pocket.  I  have  there  fifty  or  sixty  pounds.  It  is  fool- 
ish, you  think?" 

"I  do,"  I  answered.  "It  rather  seems  like  asking  people 
to  rob  you." 

"Ah,  well,  they  do  not  know !"  she  answered,  stepping 
into  the  lift.  "I  am  hungry,  Capitaine  Rotherby.  I  have 
eaten  so  little  to-day." 

"Louis  has  chosen  the  dinner  himself,"  I  remarked, 
"so  we  shall  probably  'find  it  everything  that  it  should 
be." 

We  found  our  way  to  the  table  which  had  been  reserved 
for  us,  escorted  by  one  of  Louis'  subordinates.  Louis 
himself  was  busy  in  the  distance,  arranging  the  seating  of 
a  small  dinner-party.  He  came  up  to  us  directly,  however. 
The  waiter  was  serving  us  with  caviare. 

"I  hope  you  will  enjoy  very  much  your  dinner,"  he  said, 
bowing.  "I  have  taken  special  pains  with  everything. 
Two  dinners  to-night  I  have  ordered  with  my  own  lips  from 
the  chef.  One  is  yours,  and  the  other  the  dinner  of  our 
friend  Monsieur  Bartot." 

He  pointed  to  a  table  a  little  distance  away,  where  Mon- 
sieur Bartot  was  already  dining.  His  back  was  towards  us 
—  broad  and  ugly,  with  its  rolls  of  fat  flesh  around  the 
neck,  almost  concealing  the  low  collar.  * 

"Some  day,"  I  remarked,  "our  friend  Monsieur  Bartot 
will  suffer  from  apoplexy." 

"It  would  not  be  surprising,"  Louis  answered.  "He  is 
looking  very  flushed  to-night.  The  chef  has  prepared  for 


A    VERY    SPECIAL    DINNER          133 

him  a  wonderful  dinner.  They  say  that  he  is  never  satis- 
fied. We  shall  see  to-night." 

I  looked  away  with  a  little  gesture  of  disgust.  Louis  was 
summoned  elsewhere,  a  fact  for  which  I  was  duly  grateful. 

"Tell  me,  Miss  Delora,"  I  said,  "how  long  have  you 
known  Louis?" 

"Oh!  for  a  very  long  time,"  she  answered,  a  little 
evasively.  "He  is  wonderful,  they  all  say.  There  is  no 
one  quite  like  him.  A  rich  man  has  built  a  great  restaurant 
in  New  York,  and  he  offered  him  his  own  price  if  he  would 
go  and  manage  it.  But  Monsieur  Louis  said  'No!'  He 
loves  the  Continent.  He  loves  London.  He  will  not  go 
so  far  away." 

"Monsieur  Louis  has  perhaps,  too,  other  ties  here,"  I 
remarked  dryly. 

She  looked  at  me  across  the  table  meaningly. 

"Ah!"  she  said,  "Louis  —  he  does  interest  himself  in 
many  things.  He  and  my  uncle  always  have  had  much  to 
say  to  one  another.  What  it  is  all  about  I  do  not  know, 
but  I  heard  my  uncle  say  once  that  Louis  very  soon  would 
be  as  rich  as  he  himself." 

"Tell  me  how  long  you  thought  of  staying  in  London  ?" 
I  asked. 

"It  is  not  sure,"  she  answered.  "My  uncle's  business 
may  be  settled  in  a  few  hours,  or  it  may  take  him  weeks." 

"The  selling  of  his  coffee  ?"  I  asked  dryly. 

"But  certainly  !"  she  answered. 

"And  from  here  you  go  to  where?"  I  asked. 

"Back  to  Paris,"  she  answered,  "and  then,  alas,  to 
South  America,  It  is  to  be  buried  !" 

"You  have  lived  long  in  Paris  ?"  I  asked. 

"Since  I  came  there  first  to  boarding-school,"  she  an- 
swered. "A  little  child  I  was,  with  my  hair  in  pigtails  and 


134  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

frocks  to  my  knees.  I  have  learned  to  think,  somehow, 
that  Paris  is  my  home.  What  I  have  heard  of  South 
America  I  do  not  love.  I  wish  very  much  that  my  uncle 
would  stay  here." 

"There  is  no  chance  of  that,  I  suppose  ?"  I  asked. 

"I  think  not,"  she  answered.  "In  South  America  he  is 
a  very  important  man.  They  speak  of  him  one  day  as 
President." 

"Had  you  any  idea,"  I  asked,  "that  he  had  enemies  over 
here  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"It  is  not  that,"  she  said  "We  will  not  talk  of  it  just 
now.  It  is  not  that  he  has  enemies,  but  he  has  very,  very 
important  business  to  arrange,  and  there  are  some  who  do 
not  think  as  he  thinks  about  it.  Shall  we  talk  about 
something  else,  Capitaine  Rotherby?  Tell  me  about 
your  friends  or  relations,  and  where  you  live?  I  would 
like  so  much  to  know  everything." 

"I  am  afraid  there  is  not  much  to  tell,"  I  answered. 
"You  see  I  am  what  is  called  over  here  a  younger  son.  I 
have  a  brother  wrho  owns  the  house  in  which  I  was  born, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  and  I  have  had  to  go  out  into  the 
world  and  look  for  my  fortune.  So  far,"  I  continued,  "I 
can't  say  that  I  have  been  very  successful." 

"You  are  poor,  then?"   she  asked  timidly. 

"I  am  not  rich,"  I  answered.  "Still,  on  the  whole,  I 
suppose  for  a  bachelor  I  am  comfortably  off.  Then  my 
brother  has  no  sons,  and  his  health  is  always  delicate.  I 
do  not  count  on  that,  of  course,  but  I  might  have  to  suc- 
ceed him." 

"Tell  me  his  name?"   she  asked. 

"Lord  Welmington,"  I  answered,  —  "the  Earl  of  Wel- 
mington  he  is  called." 


THERE  WAS  THE  SOUND  OF  A  HEAVY  FALL  CLOSE  AT  HAND.      I  SPRANG  TO 

MY  FEET.      "BY  JOVE,  IT'S   BARTOT!"  I  EXCLAIMED. 

Page  135 


A    VERY    SPECIAL    DINNER          135 

"And  you  would  be  that,"  she  asked  naively,  "if  he 
died?" 

"I  should,"  I  answered,  "but  I  should  be  very  sorry  to 
think  that  there  was  any  chance  of  it.  I  am  going  to  find 
something  to  do  very  soon,  probably  at  one  of  the  embassies 
on  the  Continent.  The  army  at  home,  with  no  chance  of  a 
war,  is  dull  work." 

"You  play  games  and  shoot,  of  course,"  she  asked,  "like 
all  your  countrymen  ?" 

"I  am  afraid  I  do,"  I  admitted.  "I  have  wasted  a  good 
deal  of  time  the  last  few  years.  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
definitely  now,  though,  that  I  will  get  something  to  do. 
Ralph  —  that 's  my  brother  —  wants  me  to  stand  for 
Parliament  for  the  division  of  Norfolk,  where  we  live,  and 
has  offered  to  pay  all  my  expenses,  but  I  am  afraid  I  do 
not  fancy  myself  as  a  politician." 

"I  would  come  and  hear  you  speak,"  she  murmured. 

"Thank  you,"  I  answered,  " but  I  have  other  accomplish- 
ments at  which  I  shine  more.  I  would  rather  — 

I  broke  off  in  the  middle  of  my  sentence,  attracted  by  a 
sudden  little  exclamation  from  my  companion.  There  was 
the  sound  of  a  heavy  fall  close  at  hand.  I  sprang  to  my 
feet. 

"By  Jove,  it's  Bartot !"  I  exclaimed. 

The  man  was  leaning  half  across  the  table,  his  arms 
stretched  out  in  an  unnatural  fashion,  —  the  wine  which 
he  had  overturned  streaming  on  to  the  floor.  His  face 
was  flushed  and  blotchy.  His  eyes  were  closed.  He  was 
groaning  quite  audibly,  and  gasping. 

"Empoisonne!"  he  muttered.     "Empoisonne!" 

"Poisoned?"  I  repeated.  "What  does  the  fellow 
mean  ?  " 

I  stopped  short.    A  sudden  realization  of  what  he  did 


136  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

mean  assailed  me !  He  was  desperately  ill,  there  was  no 
doubt  about  that.  The  word  which  he  had  uttered  seemed 
likely  to  be  his  last  for  some  time  to  come.  They  formed 
a  sort  of  stretcher  and  carried  him  from  the  room.  Felicia 
was  sitting  back  in  her  chair,  white  to  the  lips.  I  was 
feeling  a  little  queer  myself.  I  called  Louis,  who  had  been 
superintending  the  man's  removal. 

"Louis,"  I  whispered  in  his  ear,  "there  were  two  dinners 
which  you  prepared  yourself  to-night ! " 

Louis  smiled  very  quietly. 

"You  need  have  no  anxiety,  monsieur,"  he  assured  me, 
—  "no  anxiety  at  all !" 


CHAPTER 

CONTRASTS 

WE  sat  out  in  the  foyer  and  took  our  coffee.  I  did  not 
suggest  a  visit  to  any  place  of  entertainment,  as  I  knew 
it  was  better  for  Felicia  to  retire  early,  in  order  that  I 
might  pass  through  the  sitting-room  to  her  uncle's  room, 
unheard.  The  orchestra  was  playing  delightful  music; 
the  rooms  were  thronged  with  a  gay  and  fashionable 
crowd.  Nevertheless,  my  companion's  spirits,  which 
had  been  high  enough  during  dinner,  now  seemed  to  fail 
her.  More  than  once  during  the  momentary  silence  I 
saw  the  absent  look  come  into  her  eyes,  —  saw  her  shiver 
as  though  she  were  recalling  the  little  tragedy  of  a  few 
minutes  ago.  I  had  hitherto  avoided  mentioning  it,  but 
I  tried  now  to  make  light  of  the  matter. 

"I  spoke  to  Louis  coming  out,"  I  remarked.  "The 
man  Bartot  has  only  had  a  slight  stroke.  With  a  neck 
like  that,  I  wonder  he  has  not  had  it  before." 

She  found  no  consolation  in  my  words.  She  only  shook 
her  head  sadly. 

"You  do  not  understand,"  she  said.  "It  is  part  of  the 
game.  So  it  goes  on,  Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said, 
looking  at  me  with  her  sad  eyes.  "So  it  will  go  on  to  the 
end." 

"Come,"  I  said,  "you  must  not  get  morbid." 

"Morbid,"  she  repeated.  " It  is  not  that.  It  is  because 
I  know." 

"Do  you  believe,  then,"  I  asked,  "that  Bartot  was 
poisoned?" 


138  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

She  looked  at  me  as  though  in  surprise.  Her  eyes  were 
like  the  eyes  of  a  child. 

"I  know  it!"  she  answered  simply.  "There  is  not 
any  question  about  it  at  all." 

I  listened  to  the  music  for  several  moments  in  silence. 
Once  or  twice  I  stole  a  glance  at  her.  Notwithstanding 
a  certain  perfection  of  outline,  and  a  toilette  which  re- 
moved her  wholly  from  any  suggestion  of  immaturity, 
there  was  yet  something  childish  in  the  pale,  drawn  face, 
—  in  the  eyes  with  their  look  of  fear.  My  heart  was  full 
of  sympathy  for  her.  Such  adventures  as  this  one  into 
which  I  seemed  to  have  stumbled  were  well  enough  for 
men.  She,  at  any  rate,  was  wholly  out  of  place  in  her 
present  position  !  I  had  wild  dreams  at  that  moment. 
The  wine  and  the  music,  and  the  absolute  trustfulness 
with  which  she  seemed,  for  the  moment,  to  have  com- 
mitted herself  to  my  keeping,  fired  my  blood.  I  had 
thoughts  of  taking  her  hand  in  mine,  of  bidding  her  leave 
the  hotel  that  night,  that  minute,  with  me,  —  of  taking 
her  away  into  the  country,  into  some  quiet  place  where 
we  could  be  married,  and  where  none  of  these  things 
which  terrified  her  could  throw  their  shadows  across  her 
life !  Yet  barely  had  the  thought  come  to  me  before  I 
realized  how  impossible  it  all  was.  I,  too,  was  an  ad- 
venturer !  If  I  were  not  actually  in  the  power  of  these 
men,  it  was  to  them  that  I  owed  my  liberty !  My  own 
spirits  began  to  fall.  It  was  a  queer  maze  this  into  which 
I  had  been  drawn. 

The  music  changed  its  note.  Even  as  we  sat  there 
its  languorous,  passionate  rhythm  passed  away,  to  be 
succeeded  by  the  quicker,  cleaner  notes  of  some  old  mar- 
tial music.  It  came  to  me  like  a  cold  douche.  I  re- 
membered that  I  had  been  —  was  still  —  a  soldier.  I 


CONTRASTS  139 

remembered  that  my  word  was  pledged  to  certain  under- 
takings, and  that  after  all  I  was  fighting  on  her  side. 
The  momentary  depression  passed  away.  I  found  myself 
able  to  talk  more  lightly,  until  something  of  the  old  gayety 
came  back  to  her  also. 

"Tell  me,"  she  said,  as  at  last  we  rose  to  vacate  our 
places,  —  "y°u  spoke  the  other  day  of  going  down  into 
the  country." 

"  I  am  not  leaving  London  just  yet,"  I  said  decidedly. 

If  I  had  indeed  made  some  great  sacrifice,  I  should 
have  been  rewarded  by  the  brilliant  look  which  she  flashed 
up  at  me.  Her  eyes  for  a  moment  were  absolutely  the 
color  of  violets.  I  heard  people  whisper  as  we  passed  by. 
We  said  very  little  more  to  one  another.  I  left  her  at  the 
lift,  and  she  gave  me  both  her  hands  with  a  little  impul- 
sive gesture  which  I  had  already  learned  to  look  for. 
Then  one  of  those  inexplicable  moods  seemed  to  take 
possession  of  her.  As  the  lift  shot  away  from  me  I  saw 
that  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

I  made  my  way  back  to  the  cafe.  It  was  now  almost 
deserted.  All  but  one  or  two  very  late  diners  had  gone, 
and  the  tables  were  being  prepared  for  supper.  Louis, 
however,  was  still  there,  sitting  at  the  desk  by  the  side  of 
the  cashier,  and  apparently  making  calculations.  He  came 
forward  when  he  saw  me  enter,  and  we  met  by  chance 
just  as  one  of  the  under-managers  of  the  hotel  passed  by. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you  this  evening,  Captain  Roth- 
erby?"  he  asked,  with  his  usual  bow.  "A  table  for 
supper,  perhaps?" 

"I  want  some  coffee,"  I  asked.  "I  want  you  to  see 
that  it  is  strong,  and  well  made." 

Louis  turned  and  gave  an  order  to  a  waiter.  I  sat  down, 
and  he  stood  by  my  side. 


140  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Mademoiselle  has  gone  to  her  room?"  he  asked. 

"Five  minutes  ago,"  I  answered. 

"In  an  hour,"  he  said,  "it  will  be  safe  for  monsieur 
to  go  to  Mr.  Delora's  room.  You  need  not  pass  through 
the  sitting-room  at  all.  There  is  a  door  into  the  bedroom 
connecting  with  the  corridor.  If  mademoiselle  hears 
anything,  she  will  think  that  it  is  the  doctor." 

"I  shall  be  quite  ready,"  I  answered.  "There  are  only 
one  or  two  things  I  want  to  ask  you.  One  is  this,  what 
explanation  is  to  be  given  of  my  occupying  that  room,  if 
there  is  a  row?" 

"There  will  not  be  a  row,"  Louis  answered  coolly. 
"If  monsieur  is  hurt,  I  shall  see  to  it  that  he  is  conveyed 
to  his  own  apartment.  If  any  one  who  attacks  him,  or 
tries  to  search  the  apartment,  should  be  hurt  by  monsieur, 
I  shall  see,  too,  that  they  are  removed  quietly.  These 
things  are  easy  enough.  The  service  through  the  night 
is  almost  abandoned.  Monsieur  may  not  know  it,  but 
on  the  floor  on  which  he  sleeps  there  is  not  a  single 
servant." 

"Supposing  I  ring  my  bell  ?"  I  asked. 

"If  it  were  answered  at  all,"  Louis  said,  "it  would  be 
by  the  lift  man." 

"On  the  whole,"  I  remarked,  "it  seems  to  me  that  the 
residential  side  of  the  hotel  is  admirably  suited  to  the 
nocturnal  adjustment  of  small  differences!" 

Louis  smiled. 

"There  has  never  been  any  trouble,  sir,"  he  said. 
"You  see,"  he  added,  pointing  to  the  clock,  "it  is  now 
ten  o'clock.  In  one  hour  monsieur  should  be  there.  I 
have  ordered  whiskey  and  soda  to  be  put  in  the 
room." 

"Shall  I  see  anything  of  you,  Louis?"  I  asked. 


CONTRASTS  141 

"It  is  not  possible,  monsieur,"  he  answered.  "I  must 
be  here  until  half-past  twelve  or  one  o'clock  to  attend  to 
my  supper  guests." 

I  leaned  back  in  my  chair  and  laughed  silently.  It 
seemed  to  me  a  strange  thing  to  speak  so  calmly  of  the 
service  of  the  restaurant,  while  upstairs  I  was  to  lie  quiet, 
my  senses  strained  all  the  time,  and  the  chances  of  life 
and  death  dependent,  perhaps,  on  the  quickness  of  my 
right  arm,  or  some  chance  inspiration.  I  saw  the  usual 
throng  come  strolling  in  —  I  myself  had  often  been  one 
of  them  —  actresses  who  had  not  time  to  make  a  toilette 
for  the  restaurant  proper,  actors,  managers,  agents,  per- 
formers from  all  the  hundreds  of  pleasure  houses  which 
London  boasts,  Americans  who  had  not  troubled  to  dress, 
Frenchwomen  who  objected  to  the  order  prohibiting  their 
appearance  in  hats  elsewhere,  —  a  heterogeneous,  light- 
hearted  crowd,  not  afraid  to  laugh,  to  make  jokes,  certain 
to  outstay  their  time,  supping  frugally  or  au  prince,  ac- 
cording to  the  caprice  of  the  moment.  And  upstairs  I 
saw  myself  waiting  in  a  darkened  room  for  what  ?  I  felt 
a  thrill  of  something  which  I  had  felt  just  before  the  final 
assault  upon  Ladysmith,  when  we  had  drunk  our  last 
whiskey  and  soda,  thrown  away  our  cigarettes,  and  it  had 
been  possible  to  wonder,  for  a  moment,  whether  ever 
again  our  lips  would  hold  another.  Only  this  was  a  very 
different  matter.  I  might  be  ending  my  days,  for  all  I 
knew,  on  behalf  of  a  gang  of  swindlers ! 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "it  would  make  me  much  more  com- 
fortable if  you  could  be  a  little  more  candid.  You  might 
tell  me  in  plain  words  what  these  men  want  from  Delora. 
How  am  I  to  know  that  he  is  not  the  thief,  and  these 
others  are  seeking  only  their  own  ?" 

Louis  was  silent  for  a  moment.     He  glanced  carelessly 


142  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

around  the  room  to  assure  himself  that  there  were  no 
listeners. 

"I  can  tell  you  no  more,  sir,"  he  said,  "for  if  I  told 
you  more,  I  should  tell  you  lies.  I  will  only  remind  you 
that  you  owe  us  a  debt  which  I  am  asking  you  to  pay, 
and  that  it  is  the  uncle  of  mademoiselle  whose  place  you 
are  taking." 

"I  am  not  in  the  least  convinced,"  I  said,  "that  I  am 
aiding  the  uncle  of  mademoiselle  in  allowing  myself  to 
be  attacked  in  his  place." 

"As  for  that,"  Louis  answered,  "you  shall  be  assured 
to-morrow,  and,  if  you  will,  there  is  another  adventure 
still  to  be  undertaken.  You  shall  go  to  see  Mr.  Delora, 
and  be  thanked  with  his  own  lips." 

"There  is  some  sense  in  that,  Louis,"  I  allowed,  light- 
ing another  cigarette,  "but  I  warn  you  I  shall  make  him 
tell  me  the  truth." 

Louis  smiled  inscrutably. 

"Why  not,  monsieur?"  he  said. 

"Tell  me  this,  at  any  rate,  Louis,"  I  asked.  "What  is 
it  that  you  hope  for  from  this  evening  ?  You  believe  that 
some  one  will  break  in  with  the  idea  of  robbing  or  else 
murdering  Mr.  Delora.  They  will  find  me  there  instead. 
What  is  it  you  hope,  —  that  they  will  kill  me,  or  that  I 
shall  kill  them,  or  what?" 

"That  is  a  very  reasonable  question,"  Louis  admitted. 
"I  will  answer  it.  In  the  first  place,  I  would  have  them 
know  that  they  have  not  all  the  wits  on  their  side,  and  if 
they  plot,  we,  too,  can  counterplot.  In  the  second  place, 
I  wish  you  to  see  the  man  or  the  men  face  to  face  who 
make  this  attempt,  and  be  prepared,  if  necessary,  to 
recognize  them  hereafter.  And  in  the  third  place,  there 
is  one  man  to  whom,  if  he  should  himself  make  the  at- 


CONTRASTS  143 

tempt,   I    should    be    very  glad   indeed    if   harm   came 
of  it." 

"Thank  you,  Louis,"  I  said,  "I  am  not  proposing  to 
do  murder  if  I  can  help  it." 

"One  must  defend  one's  self,"  Louis  said. 

"Naturally,"  I  answered,  "up  to  a  certain  point.  You 
have  nothing  more  to  tell  me,  then?" 

"Nothing,  sir,"  Louis  answered  calmly.     "I  wish  you    . 
once  more  bonne  fortune!" 

I  nodded,  and  left  the  cafe.  Of  the  hall-porter  I  made 
an  inquiry  as  to  the  man  who  had  had  a  fit  in  the  cafe 
earlier  in  the  evening. 

"The  doctor  has  been  to  see  him  twice,  sir,"  the  man 
told  me.  "It  was  a  sort  of  apoplectic  stroke,  brought  on 
by  something  which  he  had  eaten." 

"Will  he  recover?"  I  asked. 

"The  doctor  says  it  is  serious,"  the  man  answered, 
"but  that  with  careful  nursing  he  will  pull  round.  We 
have  just  sent  a  telegram  to  a  lady  in  Paris  to  come 
over." 

I  smiled  as  I  rang  the  bell  for  the  lift.  So  I  might  see 
my  lady  of  the  turquoises  again. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WHEELS   WITHIN   WHEELS 

ARRIVED  in  my  room,  I  changed  my  dress-coat  for  a 
smoking- jacket,  and  my  patent  shoes  for  loose  slippers. 
Then  I  suddenly  discovered  that  I  had  no  cigarettes.  I 
glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was  only  half -past  ten.  I  had 
still  half  an  hour  to  spare. 

I  locked  up  my  room  and  descended  by  the  lift  to  the 
entrance  hall.  My  friend  the  hall-porter  was  standing 
behind  his  counter,  doing  nothing. 

"I  wish  you  would  send  a  boy  into  the  cafe,"  I  said, 
"and  ask  Louis  to  send  me  a  box  of  my  cigarettes." 

"With  pleasure,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "By  the 
bye,"  he  added,  "Louis  is  not  there  himself,  but  I 
suppose  any  of  the  others  would  know  the  sort  you 
smoke,  sir  ?  " 

"Not  there  ?"  I  answered,  glancing  at  the  clock.  "Ah  ! 
I  suppose  it  is  a  little  early  for  him." 

"He  will  not  be  there  at  all  this  evening,"  the  porter 
answered.  "The  second  maitre  d'hotel  was  here  a  few 
minutes  ago,  and  told  me  so  himself." 

"Not  there  at  all !"  I  repeated.  "Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  Louis  has  a  night  off?" 

"Certainly,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "He  has  just  gone 
out  in  his  morning  clothes." 

For  a  moment  I  was  so  surprised  that  I  said  nothing. 
Only  a  few  minutes  ago  Louis  had  gone  out  of  his  way  to 


WHEELS    WITHIN    WHEELS          145 

tell  me  that  he  would  be  on  duty  that  night  in  the  cafe. 
All  the  time  it  was  obviously  a  lie !  He  would  not  have 
deceived  me  without  a  reason.  What  was  it  ?  I  walked 
to  the  door  and  back  again.  The  hall-porter  watched  me  a 
little  curiously. 

"Did  you  wish  for  Monsieur  Louis  particularly,"  he 
said,  "or  shall  I  send  to  Antoine  for  the  cigarettes?" 

I  pulled  myself  together. 

"Send  to  Antoine,  by  all  means,"  I  answered.  "He 
knows  what  I  want." 

I  took  up  an  evening  paper  and  glanced  at  the  news. 
Somehow  or  other  I  was  conscious,  although  I  had  had  no 
exercise,  of  feeling  unusually  sleepy.  When  the  boy  re- 
turned with  the  cigarettes  I  thrust  the  box  into  my 
pocket,  unopened.  Then  I  went  to  the  smoking-room 
on  my  way  upstairs  and  drank  a  stiff  brandy  and  soda. 
Of  one  of  the  junior  waiters  whom  I  met  I  asked  a 
question. 

"  Do  you  know  if  Monsieur  Louis  will  be  here  to-night  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"No,  sir!"   he  answered.    "He  has  just  left." 

"Very  well,"  I  answered.  "You  need  not  mention  my 
inquiry." 

I  gave  the  boy  half-a-crown,  and  ascended  once  more  to 
my  room.  I  was  feeling  a  little  more  awake,  but,  incom- 
prehensible though  it  might  seem,  I  began  to  have  a 
curious  idea  concerning  the  coffee  with  which  Louis 
had  served  me.  I  even  remembered  —  or  thought  that 
I  remembered  —  some  curious  taste  abont  it.  Yet  what 
object  could  Louis  have  in  drugging  me  just  as  I 
was  on  the  point  of  entering  into  an  enterprise  on 
his  behalf  ? 

I  had  a  spirit-lamp  in  my  room,  and  I  made  myself 


146  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

rapidly  a  cup  of  strong  tea.  Even  after  I  had  drunk  it,  I 
still  felt  the  remains  of  the  drowsy  feeling  hanging  around 
me.  It  was  now  ten  minutes  to  eleven,  and  I  opened  my 
wardrobe  to  find  the  only  weapon  with  which  I  proposed 
to  arm  myself,  —  a  heavily  loaded  Malacca  cane,  which 
had  more  than  once  done  me  good  service.  To  my  surprise 
it  was  not  in  its  accustomed  corner.  I  was  perfectly  certain 
that  I  had  seen  it  since  my  return  from  Paris,  and  I  pro- 
ceeded to  make  a  thoroughly  methodical  search.  I  left 
scarcely  an  inch  of  space  in  my  rooms  undisturbed.  At 
last  I  was  forced  to  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  stick 
had  gone.  Either  the  valet  or  some  one  else  must  have 
borrowed  it. 

It  was  eleven  o'clock  by  the  time  I  had  concluded  my 
search,  and  there  was  no  time  for  me  to  make  any  further 
inquiries.  I  locked  up  my  rooms  and  descended  to  the 
fifth  floor.  The  corridor  was  empty,  and  with  the  key 
which  Louis  had  given  me  I  opened  the  door  of  Mr. 
Delora's  bedroom  without  difficulty.  The  room  was  in 
darkness,  but  the  electric-light  knob  was  against  the  wall. 
I  turned  it  on  quickly.  There  was  neither  any  one  in  the 
room,  nor  any  evidence  of  it  having  been  recently  occu- 
pied. Not  satisfied  with  my  first  inspection,  I  looked  into 
the  wardrobe  and  lifted  the  curtains  of  the  bed.  Very 
soon  I  was  assured  that  there  was  no  one  in  hiding.  I  sat 
down  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and  began  to  consider  how  to 
pass  the  time  for  the  next  hour  or  so.  The  whiskey  and 
soda  set  out  upon  the  table  attracted  my  attention.  I 
went  over  to  it,  struck  by  a  sudden  thought !  First  I 
poured  out  a  little  of  the  whiskey.  It  smelt  harmless 
enough.  I  tried  it  upon  my  tongue.  There  was  no  dis- 
tinctive flavor.  Then  I  looked  at  the  soda-water  syphon. 
The  top  was  screwed  up  tightly  enough,  and  it  easily 


WHEELS    WITHIN    WHEELS         147 

came  undone  with  the  application  of  a  little  force.  I  ex- 
amined the  screw.  I  felt  certain  at  once,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  that  it  had  been  tampered  with  recently.  I  poured 
a  little  of  the  soda-water  into  a  glass.  It  was  quite  flat, 
and  when  I  tasted  it  it  had  a  peculiar  flavor.  Something 
seemed  to  have  been  added  to  it  which  destroyed  alto- 
gether its  buoyancy.  I  screwed  on  the  top  again  and 
whistled  softly  to  myself.  The  whiskey  and  soda  had  been 
placed  there  by  Louis.  He  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  call 
my  particular  attention  to  it.  The  coffee  which  I  had 
drunk  a  little  before  had  also  been  prepared  by  Louis.  He 
was  evidently  taking  no  chances !  It  was  his  intention 
that  I  should  be  asleep  when  the  intruder,  whoever  he 
might  be,  should  enter  the  room.  After  all,  it  seemed 
that  I  was  in  for  something  a  little  more  complicated  in 
the  way  of  adventures  than  I  had  imagined.  I  examined 
the  lock  of  the  door  by  which  I  had  entered.  It  worked 
easily,  and  there  was  also  a  bolt  on  the  inside.  The  door 
was  by  its  side  which  led  into  the  sitting-room.  I  also 
examined  it,  and  I  saw  with  satisfaction  that  there  was 
at  the  top  a  narrow  glass  transept,  which  I  carefully  opened. 
The  sitting-room  was  in  darkness,  so  Felicia  had  evidently 
retired  for  the  night.  I  sat  down  to  wait ! 

The  time  dragged  on  slowly  enough,  as  it  might  well 
have  done  under  the  circumstances.  I  was  waiting  for 
something,  —  I  had  not  the  least  idea  what,  or  in  what 
form  it  would  arrive.  I  heard  the  quarters  chime  one 
after  the  other  until  one  o'clock.  Then  at  last  I  heard  the 
sound  of  a  key  in  the  outer  door  of  the  suite.  I  had  al- 
ready poured  half  the  syphon  of  soda  and  a  fair  quantity 
of  the  whiskey  out  of  the  window.  I  now  threw  myself 
upon  the  bed,  closed  my  eyes,  and  did  my  best  to  simulate 
a  heavy  sleep.  The  person  who  entered  the  apartments 


i48  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

came  up  the  little  outer  passage  until  he  reached  the  door 
leading  into  my  room.  I  heard  that  softly  opened.  Then 
there  was  a  pause,  broken  only  by  my  heavy  breathing. 
Some  one  was  in  the  room,  and  it  was  some  one  who  had 
learned  the  art  of  absolute  noiselessness.  I  heard  no  foot- 
steps, —  not  even  a  man's  breathing.  Suddenly  there  was 
the  click  of  the  electric  light,  and  although  I  still  heard 
nothing,  I  felt  that  some  one  had  approached  a  little  way 
towards  the  bed.  I  dared  not  open  my  eyes,  but  in  a  rest- 
less movement,  which  I  felt  I  might  safely  make,  I  raised 
my  hand  to  shield  me,  and  caught  a  momentary  glimpse 
of  the  person  who  was  standing  between  me  and  the  door. 
As  I  expected,  it  was  Louis !  He  held  the  soda-water 
syphon  in  his  hand,  as  though  measuring  its  contents.  I 
believe  that  he  afterwards  came  and  stood  over  me.  I 
dared  not  open  my  eyes  again,  for  I  was  none  too  good  an 
actor,  and  I  feared  that  he  might  not  be  deceived.  The 
quantity  of  whiskey  and  soda,  however,  which  I  had 
apparently  drunk,  must  have  satisfied  him,  for  he  only 
stayed  altogether  about  a  minute  in  the  room.  Then  he 
passed  out  into  the  sitting-room,  closing  the  door  behind 
him,  and  without  noticing  the  open  transept.  I  lay  quite 
still,  expecting  that  before  long  he  would  return.  There 
were  no  signs  of  his  coming,  however,  though  through  the 
transept  I  could  see  that  the  light  in  the  sitting-room  had 
been  turned  on.  I  rose  softly  from  the  bed  and  bolted 
both  doors.  If  Louis  were  to  make  up  his  mind  to 
return,  it  was  better,  after  all,  for  him  to  discover  that 
I  had  been  deceiving  him  than  to  have  him  come  upon 
me  unawares ! 

From  the  top  of  a  chair  I  was  easily  able  to  see  through 
the  transept  into  the  sitting-room.  At  my  first  glance  I 
thought  that  it  was  empty.  Then,  however,  I  saw  Louis 


WHEELS    WITHIN    WHEELS         149 

come  in  from  the  outer  hall,  as  though  from  the  door  of 
Felicia's  room.  He  came  into  the  centre  of  the  sitting- 
room  and  stood  there  waiting.  He  was  in  dark  morning 
clothes,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  that  charming  expression 
which  his  patrons  found  so  attractive.  His  brows  were 
contracted.  His  mouth  seemed  screwed  together.  His 
peculiar-colored  eyes  shone  like  gimlets.  He  seemed  to  be 
waiting  impatiently  —  waiting  for  what  ?  Once  he  moved 
a  little,  and  glanced  expectantly  toward  the  open  door  of 
the  sitting-room.  For  the  first  time  a  horrible  fear  gripped 
me.  I  could  scarcely  stand  in  my  place.  With  both  hands 
I  held  the  cornice.  My  heart  began  to  thump  against  my 
ribs.  If  it  should  be  true !  Then  all  of  a  sudden  a  little 
cry  came  to  my  lips,  which  Heaven  knows  how  I  stifled ! 
My  eyes  were  suddenly  hot.  There  was  a  mist  before 
them.  I  could  see  nothing,  nothing  save  Felicia,  who  had 
entered  the  room  in  a  dressing- jacket,  with  her  hair  still 
down  her  back.  It  was  nothing  to  me,  at  that  moment, 
that  her  eyes  were  round  with  fear,  that  she  came  as  one 
comes  who  obeys  the  call  of  her  master.  I  was  so  furious 
with  anger  that  I  had  hard  work  to  battle  with  the  impulse 
which  prompted  me  to  throw  open  the  door  and  confront 
then  both. 

"Louis,  is  this  wise?"  she  murmured. 

"There  are  times,"  he  answered  softly,  "when  one  has 
to  dare  everything  !  Listen,  Felicia." 

"Yes?"  she  murmured. 

"In  a  short  time  you  will  hear  a  soft  knocking  on  the 
outside  door.  Take  no  notice.  I  shall  open  it.  It  will  be 
some  one  to  see  your  uncle.  We  shall  talk  in  this  sitting- 
room.  I  hope  that  nothing  will  happen,  but  if  you  hear 
the  sound  of  blows  or  voices  take  no  notice.  Remain  in 
your  room  till  everything  is  quiet.  Presently,  if  all  is  well, 


i5o  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

I  shall  knock  three  times  on  your  door.  I  may  need  your 
help." 

"Very  well,"  she  answered.    "And  if  you  do  not  knock  ?  " 

He  handed  her  a  slip  of  paper. 

"You  have  a  telephone  in  your  room,"  he  said.  "Ring 
up  the  number  you  will  find  there,  and  simply  repeat  the 
words  which  I  have  written." 

"Is  that  all?"  she  asked. 

"That  is  all." 

"Louis,"  she  said,  —  then  she  pointed  in  my  direction, 
—  "  may  I  not  go  in  just  for  one  minute  ?" 

"No  !"  he  answered.     "It  is  not  wise." 

"It  seems  unkind,"  she  said,  "to  keep  away  from  him 
all  this  time  if  he  is  ill." 

"I  did  not  know  that  you  had  so  much  affection  for 
him  !"  Louis  remarked. 

"Why  not?"  she  answered.  "He  was  always  kind  to 
me,  in  his  way." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause.  Then  she  spoke  again, 
and  her  voice  had  in  it  a  note  of  sharp  inquiry. 

"Louis,  whose  stick  is  that?"   she  demanded. 

I  raised  myself  a  little  higher.  Upon  the  table,  close  to 
where  Louis  was  standing,  was  a  thick  Malacca  cane  which 
I  recognized  at  once. 

"Mine!"  Louis  answered  shortly. 

"Are  you  sure?"  she  asked. 

"Whose  did  you  suppose  that  it  was?"  he  demanded. 

"  Capitaine  Rotherby  was  carrying  one  just  like  it,"  she 
declared.  "I  noticed  it  in  the  railway  carriage." 

"They  are  common  enough,"  Louis  answered.  "This 
one,  at  any  rate,  is  mine.  Hush !" 

They  both,  for  a  moment,  seemed  to  be  listening  in- 
tently. Then  Louis  pointed  to  the  door. 


WHEELS    WITHIN    WHEELS         151 

"Go  back  to  your  room,"  he  said,  in  a  low  whisper. 
"  Go  back  at  once,  and  turn  your  key." 

She  stole  away.  When  she  was  no  longer  in  the  room 
I  could  see  more  clearly,  —  I  could  take  account  of  other 
things !  Distinctly  I  could  hear  now  the  soft  knocking 
upon  the  outer  door! 


CHAPTER  XX 

A   TERRIBLE   NIGHT 

Louis  disappeared  from  the  room  for  the  moment.  I 
heard  the  outer  door  softly  opened  and  closed.  Then  he 
came  back  into  the  sitting-room,  followed  by  the  man 
who  had  stood  by  our  side  at  Charing  Cross  Station.  The 
latter  looked  around  the  room  quickly,  and  seemed  dis- 
appointed to  find  it  empty. 

"I  understood  that  Mr.  Delora  was  here,"  he  said. 

"Mr.  Delora  is  in  his  bedroom,"  Louis  answered.  "He 
is  here,  and  perfectly  willing  to  see  you.  But  it  is  against 
the  doctor's  orders,  and  my  instructions  were  that  I  was  to 
warn  you  not  to  excite  him.  You  must  speak  slowly,  and 
you  may  have  to  repeat  anything  which  you  wish  him  to 
understand." 

"Who  are  you?"  the  newcomer  asked. 

"I  am  Mr.  Delora's  servant,"  Louis  answered. 

The  newcomer  looked  a  little  puzzled. 

"Surely  I  have  seen  you  before  somewhere!"  he 
exclaimed. 

"It  is  very  possible,"  Louis  answered.  "I  am  also  a 
waiter  in  the  cafe  below,  but  I  come  from  South  America, 
and  Mr.  Delora,  when  he  is  over,  is  always  kind  to  me.  I 
spend  most  of  my  time,  now  that  he  is  ill,  up  here  looking 
after  him." 

The  newcomer  shook  his  head  thoughtfully. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked. 

"Louis,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 


A    TERRIBLE    NIGHT  153 

"Then,  my  friend  Louis,"  the  newcomer  said,  "under- 
stand me  plainly.  I  am  not  here  to  be  bamboozled,  or  to 
give  you  an  opportunity  for  exercising  any  ability  you  may 
possess  in  the  art  of  lying.  I  am  here  to  see  Delora,  and  if 
he  is  here,  see  him  I  will  and  must !  If  he  is  not  here,  well, 
it  will  come  later.  There  is  no  roof  nor  any  walls  in 
London  which  will  enclose  that  man  and  keep  him 
from  me!" 

"Mr.  Delora  has  no  desire  to  hide  himself  from  any 
one,"  Louis  answered  calmly. 

"That  is  a  statement  which  I  may  be  permitted  to 
doubt!"  the  visitor  answered.  "Is  that  the  door  of  his 
sleeping  chamber?  If  so,  I  am  going  in  !" 

He  pointed  to  the  door,  through  the  transept  of  wrhich  I 
was  looking  into  the  sitting-room.  Louis  moved  on  one 
side. 

"That  is  Mr.  Delora's  room,"  he  said  softly.  "Per- 
haps you  had  better  let  me  be  sure  that  he  is  awake." 

"You  need  not  trouble,"  the  other  answered.  "If  he  is 
asleep  I  shall  wake  him.  If  he  is  awake  he  will  know 
very  well  that  there  is  no  escaping  me." 

He  turned  away  from  Louis.  His  hand  was  already 
outstretched  toward  the  handle  of  my  door.  Then  I  saw 
Louis  snatch  the  Malacca  cane  from  its  place  and  swing 
it  behind  his  body.  He  was  already  poised  for  the  blow 
—  a  blow  which  would  have  killed  any  man  breathing  — 
when  I  sprang  to  the  ground  and  flung  open  the  door. 

"Lookout!"  I  cried. 

The  newcomer  sprang  on  one  side.  Louis,  disturbed 
by  my  cry,  lost  his  nerve,  and  the  blow  fell  upon  a  small 
side  table,  smashing  it  through,  and  sending  splinters 
flying  into  the  air.  Both  men  looked  at  me  in  the  blankest 
of  amazement.  I  came  out  into  the  sitting-room. 


154  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"You  coward  S"  I  said  to  Louis. 

He  shrank  back  against  the  wall.  He  still  held  the  stick 
in  his  hand,  but  he  showed  not  a  sign  of  fight.  The  other 
man  stood  with  clenched  fists,  as  though  about  to  spring 
upon  him,  but  I  stepped  between  them. 

"In  the  first  place,"  I  said  to  the  newcomer,  "you  had 
better  look  into  that  room.  You  will  see  that  Mr.  Delora 
is  not  there.  I  can  assure  you,  from  my  own  knowledge, 
that  he  has  never  been  there.  When  you  have  finished, 
come  back  and  tell  me  what  you  want  with  him." 

Louis  was  still  staring  at  me  in  amazement.  The  idea 
that  I  had  discovered  his  attempt  to  make  a  cat's-paw  of 
me  was  dawning  upon  him  slowly,  but  knowing  nothing 
of  the  transept,  he  could  not  account  for  my  unexpected 
appearance.  For  once,  at  any  rate,  he  had  lost  his  nerve. 
I  could  see  that  he  was  shaking  with  fear. 

"Come,  Louis,"  I  said,  "put  my  stick  down  and  talk 
like  a  man,  if  you  can." 

The  stick  fell  from  his  fingers.  He  had  scarcely  strength 
enough  left  to  hold  it.  Then  the  man  who  had  been  ex- 
amining Delora's  room  came  back  and  stepped  past 
Louis  up  to  me. 

"I  do  not  know  why  you  are  here,  sir,"  he  said.  "You 
may  be  mixed  up  in  this  affair  or  you  may  not  be.  But 
if  you  ai-e,  let  me  warn  you  that  you  are  on  the  wrong  side. 
You  saw  his  attempt  ?"  he  added,  pointing  to  Louis.  "I 
am  going  to  wring  the  life  out  of  him.  He  deserves  it." 

"No  !"  I  answered,  holding  him  back.  "We  will  have 
no  violence  here.  Louis  has  a  little  account  to  settle  with 
me  yet." 

"He  has  a  more  serious  one  with  me,"  the  other 
muttered. 

"Settle  it  when  and  where  you  will,"  I  said,  "but  not 


A    TERRIBLE    NIGHT  155 

here.  As  for  me,  I  have  no  longer  any  interest  in  or  con- 
cern with  any  of  you.  I  came  into  this  thing  by  accident, 
and  to-night  I  go  out  of  it.  You,  sir,  must  leave  the  hotel 
at  once.  I  do  not  know  your  name  or  anything  about  you. 
It  is  not  my  concern.  If  you  have  anything  to  say  to  Louis, 
choose  another  time." 

He  looked  at  me  curiously.  I  could  see  that  with 
every  nerve  hi  his  body  he  was  longing  to  spring  upon 
Louis. 

"You  seem  to  be  a  masterful  person,  sir,"  he  said. 
"Why  should  I  obey  you  ?" 

"Because  I  saved  your  life,  for  one  thing,"  I  answered, 
"and  because  I  will  allow  no  violence  in  this  room,  for 
another.  And  if  you  need  a  third  reason,"  I  added,  "be- 
cause I  have  the  advantage  of  you  in  strength.  You  need 
not  be  afraid  of  my  further  interference,"  I  continued. 
"I  shall  leave  London  to-morrow,  and  I  hope  that  I  may 
never  see  one  of  you  again.  Now  will  you  go  ?" 

"Yes,  I  will  go !"  he  said.  "Let  me  tell  you  this,  sir," 
he  added,  as  he  neared  the  door.  "Your  decision  is  a  wise 
one.  If  you  knew  whose  cause  you  had  been  aiding,  whose 
tool  you  had  very  nearly  become,  I  think  that  your  manner 
would  be  a  little  more  apologetic." 

"I  have  your  word,  sir,  that  you  will  leave  the  hotel  ?" 
I  asked. 

"At  once,"  the  other  answered. 

We  heard  him  close  the  outer  door  and  depart.  Then 
I  turned  to  Louis. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "so  this  is  your  adventure!  This  is 
the  way  you  proposed  to  make  use  of  me !  You  got  me 
into  that  room  and  drugged  me.  I  was  to  lie  there  while 
you  murdered  that  man  with  my  weapon.  Then  you  would 
creep  away,  and  in  the  morning  there  was  I  and  the  dead 


156  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

man  !  I  was  to  be  the  tool,  —  the  girl  there  the  lure.  It 
was  well  worked  out,  Louis,  but  it  was  a  coward's  plan 
and  a  coward's  trick  !" 

I  reached  out  my  hand  and  took  him  by  the  collar.  I 
felt  as  though  I  were  grasping  some  unclean  insect,  from 
whom  the  sting  might  shoot  out  at  any  moment. 

"Have  you  anything  to  say?"  I  asked. 

"You  do  not  understand,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "I 
did  not  mean  to  put  this  thing  upon  you.  I  meant,  per- 
haps, to  disable  that  man  who  has  just  left.  If  you  knew 
his  history  and  mine,  you  would  not  wonder  at  it.  But  I 
meant  to  see  that  he  was  safely  removed." 

"Then  why  did  you  bring  me  down  into  that  room,"  I 
asked,  "under  a  false  pretence?  Why  did  you  use  that 
murderous  cane  of  mine  for  your  crime?  Why  did  you 
insist  upon  it  that  I  should  be  seen  dining  with  the  girl  — 
God  knows  who  she  is  !  —  who  is  in  that  room  ?" 

"I  can  explain  everything,"  Louis  said.  "I  am  con- 
fused !  I  cannot  help  it  —  you  came  so  unexpectedly  ! " 

"Unexpectedly  indeed,"  I  answered,  "because  I  poured 
your  whiskey  and  soda  out  of  the  window,  and  because  I 
took  an  antidote  to  your  coffee ! " 

"You  speak  of  things  which  I  do  not  understand," 
Louis  declared. 

"Oh!  tell  me  no  more  lies!"  I  exclaimed.  "Listen! 
You  see  I  have  you  by  the  collar,  and  I  have  my  cane. 
Now  I  am  going  to  beat  you  till  every  bone  in  your  body 
aches,  till  you  will  not  be  able  to  crawl  about,  until  you 
tell  me  the  real  history  of  these  things.  For  every  lie  —  if 
I  know  it  to  be  a  lie  —  I  shall  strike  you.  Tell  me  who 
that  man  Delora  is  ?  Tell  me  who  the  girl  is,  posing  as 
his  niece,  who  meets  you  here  after  midnight?  Tell  me 
the  name  of  that  man  who  has  just  left  us  ?  Tell  me  how 


A    TERRIBLE    NIGHT  157 

you  are  all  bound  together,  and  what  your  quarrel  is  ?  And 
tell  me  where  Delora  is  now?" 

"I  have  no  strength,"  he  gasped.  "You  are  too  rough. 
Let  me  sit  down  quietly.  I  must  think." 

"No!"  I  answered.    "Speak!    Speak  now!" 

I  raised  the  stick  as  though  to  strike  him.  Then  I  saw 
a  sudden  change  in  his  face.  I  looked  toward  the  door. 
Almost  as  I  did  so  I  heard  the  faint  flutter  of  moving 
draperies.  Felicia  stood  there  looking  in  upon  us,  her 
hands  uplifted,  her  face  full  of  terror. 

"It  is  Capitaine  Rotherby!"  she  cried.  "Tell  me, 
then,  what  has  happened?  Capitaine  Rotherby!" 

She  came  a  little  toward  us,  but  I  think  that  she  read  in 
my  face  something  of  what  I  was  feeling,  for  she  stopped 
suddenly  and  her  lips  quivered. 

"What  has  happened  ?"  she  demanded.  "Will  neither 
of  you  tell  me  ?  Is  my  uncle  worse  ?  Has  any  one  —  any 
one  tried  to  do  him  an  injury?" 

"Nothing  is  the  matter,"  I  answered,  "except  that  we 
have  come  to  an  end  of  this  tissue  of  lies  and  plots  and 
counterplots.  There  is  no  uncle  of  yours  in  that  room,  nor 
ever  has  been.  The  man  who  was  to  have  been  murdered 
here  has  gone.  And  for  the  rest,  I  saw  you  here  with 
Louis  and  I  heard  your  conversation  less  than  an  hour 
ago." 

"You  saw  us?"  she  gasped. 

"  From  the  transept  there,"  I  answered,  pointing  towards 
it.  "I  was  brought  into  that  room  to  personate  your 
uncle,  to  receive  an  attack  which  was  meant  for  him  —  a 
very  clever  scheme !  I  was  drugged,  and  was  to  have  lain 
there  to  cover  this  fellow's  crime.  But  there,  I  don't  sup- 
pose that  I  need  tell  you  any  of  these  things !"  I  added 
brutally. 


158  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR  . 

She  looked  at  me  with  horror. 

"You  do  not  believe — "  she  gasped. 

"Oh!  I  believe  nothing,"  I  answered,  —  "nothing  at 
all !  Every  word  I  have  been  told  by  both  of  you  is  a  lie  ! 
Your  lives  are  lies !  God  knows  why  I  should  ever  have 
believed  otherwise!"  I  said,  looking  at  her. 

"Let  me  go,"  Louis  pleaded,  "and  you  shall  hear  the 
truth." 

"  I  shall  be  more  likely  to  feel  the  knife  you  have  in  your 
pocket,"  I  answered  contemptuously,  for  I  had  seen  his 
left  hand  struggling  downward  for  the  last  few  moments. 
"  Oh  !  I  '11  let  you  go  !  I  have  no  interest  in  any  of  you,  — 
no  interest  hi  your  cursed  conspiracy,  whatever  it  may  be  ! 
Keep  your  story.  I  don't  care  to  hear  it.  Lie  there  and 
talk  to  your  accomplice ! " 

I  sent  him  reeling  aross  the  room  till  he  fell  in  the  corner. 
Then  I  walked  out,  closing  the  sitting-room  door  behind 
me,  —  out  into  the  corridor  and  up  the  stairs  into  my  own 
room.  Then  I  locked  and  bolted  my  own  door  and  looked 
at  my  watch.  It  was  a  quarter  to  three.  I  took  a  Brad- 
shaw  from  my  bookcase,  packed  a  few  clothes  myself,  set 
an  alarm  clock  for  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  turned 
into  bed.  I  told  myself  that  I  would  not  think.  I  told 
myself  that  there  was  no  such  person  in  the  world  as 
Felicia,  that  she  had  never  lived,  that  she  was  only  part  of 
this  nightmare  from  which  I  was  freeing  myself !  I  told 
myself  that  I  would  go  to  sleep,  and  I  stayed  awake  until 
daylight.  All  the  time  there  was  only  one  thought  in  my 
brain ! 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A   CHANGE    OF   PLANS 

AT  a  few  minutes  past  nine  on  the  following  morning,  I  was 
standing  outside  the  front  door  of  the  Court  watching  the 
piling  of  my  luggage  on  to  a  four-wheel  cab.  The  hall- 
porter  stood  by  my  side,  superintending  the  efforts  of  his 
myrmidons. 

"You  had  better  send  my  letters  on,"  I  told  him.  "I 
am  going  down  into  Norfolk  for  several  weeks,  —  perhaps 
longer." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  he  answered.  "By  the  bye,"  he  added, 
turning  away,  "this  morning's  letters  have  just  arrived. 
There  was  one  for  you,  I  think." 

He  handed  it  to  me,  and  I  tore  it  open  as  I  stepped  on  to 
the  pavement.  It  was  written  from  Feltham  Court,  Nor- 
folk, and  dated  the  previous  day. 

MY  DEAR  AUSTEN, 

I  send  you  a  hurried  line  in  case  you  should  be  thinking  of 
coming  down  here.  I  have  decided  to  come  up  to  London  for 
a  few  weeks,  and  have  lent  the  Court  to  Lady  Mary,  with  the 
exception  of  the  shooting,  which  is  reserved  for  you.  If  you 
are  in  town,  do  look  me  up  at  Claridge's. 

Ever  yours, 

RALPH. 

I  was  on  the  point  of  having  the  cab  unloaded  and  re- 
considering my  plans.  Suddenly,  however,  like  an  inspira- 
tion there  flashed  into  my  mind  the  thought  that  it  would 


160  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

not,  perhaps,  be  such  a  very  bad  thing  if,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, I  kept  my  altered  plans  to  myself.  So  I 
stuffed  the  letter  into  my  pocket  and  stepped  into  the 
four-wheeler. 

"You  understand,  Ashley  ?"  I  said.  "Send  everything 
on  to  Feltham  Court,  —  cards,  letters,  or  anything." 

"Perfectly,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "I  hope  you  will 
have  a  pleasant  time,  sir." 

"Tell  the  cabman  Liverpool  Street,"  I  ordered,  and 
got  in. 

We  rolled  out  of  the  courtyard,  and  I  drove  all  the  way 
to  Liverpool  Street  as  though  to  catch  my  train.  Arrived 
there,  however,  I  deposited  my  luggage  in  the  cloak-room 
and  drove  back  to  Claridge's  in  a  hansom.  I  found  that 
my  brother  was  installed  in  a  suite  of  rooms  there,  and  his 
servant,  who  came  into  the  sitting-room  to  me  at  once, 
told  me  that  he  believed  they  were  up  for  at  least  a 
month. 

"His  Lordship  has  nearly  finished  dressing,  sir,"  he 
added.  "He  will  be  in,  in  a  few  minutes." 

I  took  up  the  morning  paper,  but  found  nothing  of  inter- 
est there.  Then  my  brother  came  in,  leaning  heavily  on  two 
sticks,  and  moving  slowly.  He  was  not  more  than  ten 
years  older  than  I  was,  but  the  shock  of  his  accident  and 
subsequent  sufferings  had  aged  him  terribly.  His  hair 
had  gone  prematurely  gray,  and  his  face  was  deeply  lined. 
I  stepped  forward  and  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"My  dear  Ralph,"  I  said,  "this  is  really  first-class.  The 
last  time  I  saw  you,  you  scarcely  expected  to  be  out  of 
your  bath-chair  in  six  months." 

"  I  am  getting  on,  Austen,"  he  answered,  "  thanks  !  I  am 
getting  on.  I  will  sit  in  that  easy-chair  for  a  few  minutes. 
Thanks !  Then  we  will  have  some  breakfast." 


A    CHANGE    OF    PLANS  161 

"I  was  starting  for  Feltham  this  morning,"  I  told  him, 
"when  I  got  your  letter." 

"When  did  you  get  back  from  Paris?"  he  asked. 

"Three  or  four  days  ago,"  I  answered. 

He  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"I  know  that  I  ought  to  have  come  at  once,"  I  said, 
"but  there  were  several  things  in  London.  I  found  it  hard 
to  get  away." 

"Well?"  he  said. 

"I  met  Tapilow  face  to  face  at  a  little  French  cafe,"  I 
told  him.  "They  tell  me  that  he  will  recover,  but  he  is 
maimed  and  scarred  for  life." 

My  brother  showed  no  excitement  —  scarcely,  even, 
any  interest  in  my  information.  His  face,  however,  had 
darkened. 

"I  am  glad  that  you  did  not  kill  him  outright,"  he  said. 
"Tell  me,  are  you  likely  to  get  into  any  trouble  for  this  ?" 

"No  !"  I  assured  him.  "The  affair  happened  hi  a  very 
dubious  sort  of  place.  I  don't  think  I  shall  hear  anything 
more  about  it  unless  from  Tapilow  himself." 

Ralph  nodded. 

"We  will  close  the  chapter,"  he  said. 

"You  have  no  news — " 

"None!"  he  interrupted  me,  shortly.  "We  will  close 
the  chapter." 

So  I  spoke  to  him  no  more  on  his  own  affairs.  His 
servant  brought  in  the  letters  and  papers,  poked  the  fire, 
and  announced  that  breakfast  was  ready. 

"You  will  have  something,  Austen?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  only  had  a  continental  breakfast,"  I  answered. 
"I  dare  say  I  can  manage  to  eat  something." 

"I  have  a  letter  from  Dicky,"  he  remarked,  later  on 
"Asks  me  to  be  civil,  if  I  can,  to  some  people  who  have 


162  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

been  remarkably  kind  to  him  out  in  Brazil.  They  have 
an  estate  there." 

I  nodded. 

"Dicky  doing  all  right?"  I  asked. 

"Seems  to  be,"  Ralph  answered. 

Dicky  was  our  younger  brother,  and  rather  a  wanderer. 

"What  is  the  name  of  the  people  who  are  coming  over  ? " 
I  asked. 

"Some  odd  name,"  Ralph  answered, —  "Delora,  I 
think." 

Ralph  had  drawn  the  Times  towards  him,  and  he 
did  not  notice  my  start.  I  sat  looking  at  him  in  blank 
amazement. 

"Ralph!"  I  said  presently. 

My  brother  looked  up. 

"Have  you  got  Dicky's  letter  on  you  ?"  I  asked. 

He  passed  it  over  to  me.  I  skimmed  through  the  first 
part  until  I  came  to  the  sentence  which  interested  me. 

I  have  been  out  staying  at  an  awfully  fine  estate  here,  right 
on  the  Pampas.  It  belongs  to  some  people  called  Delora. 
One  of  the  brothers  is  just  off  to  Europe,  on  some  Government 
business,  and  will  be  in  London  for  a  few  days  with  his  niece, 
I  expect.  He  is  going  to  stay  at  the  Milan  Hotel,  and  it  would 
be  awfully  good  of  you  if  you  would  look  him  up,  or  drop  him 
a  line.  They  really  have  been  very  kind  to  me  out  here. 

I  pushed  the  letter  back  to  Ralph. 

"Have  you  done  anything  yet,"  I  asked,  "about  this  ?" 

Ralph  shook  his  head. 

"I  thought  you  would  not  mind  calling  for  me,"  he 
remarked.  "I  would  like  to  be  civil  to  any  one  who  has 
done  anything  for  Dicky.  If  he  shoots,  you  might  take 
him  down  to  the  Court.  Mary  's  there,  of  course,  but  that 


A    CHANGE    OF    PLANS  163 

would  not  matter.  There  is  the  whole  of  the  bachelor 
wing  at  your  disposal." 

I  nodded. 

"I  will  look  after  it  for  you,"  I  said.  "You  can  leave 
it  in  my  hands.  It  is  rather  an  odd  thing,  but  I  believe 
that  I  have  met  this  man  in  Paris." 

My  brother  was  not  much  interested.  I  was  glad  of 
the  excuse  to  bury  myself  in  the  pages  of  the  Daily 
Telegraph.  Here  at  last,  then,  was  something  definite. 
The  man  Delora  was  not  a  fraud.  He  was  everything 
that  he  professed  to  be  —  a  wealthy  man,  without  a  doubt. 
I  suddenly  began  to  see  things  differently.  What  a  coward 
I  had  been  to  think  of  running  away !  After  all,  there 
might  be  some  explanation,  even,  of  that  meeting  between 
the  girl  and  Louis. 

We  finished  our  breakfast,  and  my  brother  hobbled 
over  to  the  window.  For  several  minutes  he  remained 
there,  looking  out  upon  the  street  with  the  aimless  air  of 
a  man  who  scarcely  knows  what  to  do  with  his  day. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of  doing,  Austen?"  he  asked 
me. 

"I  had  no  plans,"  I  answered.  "Some  part  of  the  day  I 
thought  I  would  look  up  these  people  —  the  Deloras." 

Ralph  nodded  and  turned  to  his  servant. 

"Goreham,"  he  said,  "I  will  have  the  motor  in  an  hour. 
Come  and  dine  with  me,  will  you,  Austen  ?"  he  said,  turn- 
ing to  me.  "I  don't  suppose  you  will  go  down  to  Feltham 
for  a  day  or  two." 

"I  will  come,  with  pleasure,"  I  answered.  "Where  are 
you  going  to  motor  to?" 

Ralph  answered  a  little  vaguely.  He  had  some  calls  to 
make,  and  he  was  not  altogether  sure.  I  left  him  in  a  few 
minutes  and  descended  to  the  street.  I  turned  westward 


164  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

and  walked  for  some  little  distance,  when  suddenly  \  was 
attracted  by  the  sight  of  a  familiar  figure  issuing  from  the 
door  of  a  large,  gray  stone  house.  We  came  face  to  face 
upon  the  pavement.  It  was  the  man  whose  life  I  had 
probably  saved  only  a  few  hours  ago. 

He  lifted  his  hat,  and  his  dark  eyes  sought  mine  inter- 
rogatively. 

"You  were  not,  by  chance,  on  the  way  to  call  upon 
me?"  he  asked. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"Not  only,"  I  answered,  "was  I  ignorant  of  where  you 
lived,  but  I  do  not  even  know  your  name." 

"Both  matters,"  he  remarked  quietly,  "are  unim- 
portant." 

I  glanced  at  the  house  from  which  he  had  issued. 

"It  would  seem,"  I  remarked,  "that  you  have  diplo- 
matic connections." 

"Why  not?"  he  answered.  "Indeed,"  he  continued 
thoughtfully,  "I  do  not  see,  Captain  Rotherby,  why  my 
name  should  remain  a  secret  to  you." 

He  drew  a  card  from  his  pocket,  and  handed  it  to  me. 
I  read  it  with  ill-concealed  curiosity. 

MR.    ALFONSE    LAMARTINE 

Brazilian  Legation. 
12,  Porchester  Square. 

"You  are  a  South  American?"   I  asked  quickly. 

"  By  birth,"  he  answered.  " I  have  lived  chiefly  in  Paris, 
and  here  in  London." 

"You  knew  Mr.  Delora  at  Brazil,  then  ?"  I  asked. 

"I  know  the  family  quite  well,"  he  answered.  "They 
are  very  influential  people.  I  have  told  you  my  name, 


A    CHANGE    OF    PLANS  165 

Captain  Rotherby,"  he  continued,  "because  I  see  no  reason 
why  we  two  should  not  be  frank  with  one  another.  I  am 
of  necessity  interested  in  the  movements  and  doings  of  Mr. 
Delora  and  his  niece.  You,"  he  continued,  "appear  to 
have  been  drawn  a  little  way  into  the  mesh  of  intrigue  by 
which  they  are  surrounded." 

I  drew  my  arm  through  his.  We  were  walking  now 
side  by  side. 

"Look  here,"  I  said,  "you  were  quite  right  in  what  you 
said.  There  is  no  reason  why  we  should  have  secrets  from 
one  another.  Tell  me  about  these  people,  and  why  on 
earth  they  have  any  connections  at  all  with  persons  of  the 
class  of  Louis  and  those  others." 

My  companion  spread  out  his  hand.  He  stopped  short 
on  the  pavement,  and  gesticulated  violently. 

"It  is  you  wrho  ask  me  these  things!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Yet  it  is  from  you  I  hoped  to  obtain  information.  I  know 
nothing,  —  absolutely  nothing  !  Simply  my  instructions 
were  to  meet  Mr.  Delora  on  his  arrival  in  London,  to  show 
him  every  possible  civility,  and  to  assist  him  in  any  pur- 
pose where  my  help  would  be  useful.  I  go  to  meet  him  — 
he  has  disappeared !  I  haunt  his  rooms  —  he  has  not 
returned !  His  niece  knows  nothing.  I  try  to  force  my 
way  into  his  rooms,  and  my  life  is  attempted  !" 

"Wait  a  moment,"  I  said.  "You  spoke  of  instructions. 
From  whom  do  you  receive  them?" 

"From  my  government,"  he  answered  a  little  shortly. 
"Mr.  Delora  has  some  private  business  of  importance 
here  in  England,  in  whk  h  they  are  interested." 

"Do  you  know  anything  of  his  niece?"  I  asked. 

"  Nothing  whatever,"  the  young  man  answered,  "except 
that  she  seems  a  very  charming  young  lady,  and  will,  I 
believe,  inherit  a  great  fortune." 


166  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Do  you  know  of  any  enemies  that  he  might  have?'* 
I  asked.  "For  instance,  is  this  business  of  his  connected 
with  any  affairs  which  might  bring  him  into  touch  with 
such  people  as  Louis  and  his  associates?" 

"I  will  be  frank  with  you,"  the  young  man  said.  "I 
do  not  know  what  his  business  was.  Neither,  curiously 
enough,  does  my  chief.  My  instructions  simply  were  to 
meet  him,  and  to  see  him  day  by  day.  You  yourself  can 
judge  how  well  I  have  succeeded  !" 

"Have  you  been  to  the  police?"  I  asked. 

"I  have  not,"  Lamartine  answered.  "We  have  written 
out  to  Brazil  explaining  the  circumstances,  and  asking  for 
a  cablegram  in  reply.  By  the  bye,"  he  continued,  a  little 
diffidently,  "did  it  strike  you  last  night  that  Miss  Delora 
must  have  been  associated  with  that  blackguard  Louis  in 
his  little  attempt  upon  me?" 

"I  do  not  believe  anything  of  the  sort!"  I  answered 
shortly. 

The  young  man  smiled  cynically. 

"It  is  perhaps  natural,"  he  answered. 

"You  are  not  seriously  suggesting,"  I  asked,  "that  a 
young  lady  in  the  position  of  Miss  Delora  would  descend 
to  scheming  with  a  head-waiter?" 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  my  companion  said,  "I  do  not 
know  anything.  I  do  not  understand  anything.  I  only 
know  that  the  Delora  business  has  puzzled  me,  —  has 
puzzled  my  chief.  We  have  important  communications 
for  Mr.  Delora,  and  he  cannot  be  found." 

"It  is  not  possible,"  I  declared,  "for  a  man  to  disappear 
in  London." 

"A  man  may  disappear  anywhere,"  Lamartine  said 
dryly,  "when  such  people  as  Louis  are  interested  in  him ! 
However,  we  do  no  good  by  comparing  notes  when  we 


A    CHANGE    OF    PLANS  167 

neither  of  us  know  anything.  If  I  should  gain  any  infor- 
mation of  Mr.  Delora's  whereabouts  —  " 

I  gave  him  my  card  quickly. 

"We  will  exchange  our  news,"  I  assured  him.  "It  is 
a  promise." 

He  bowed,  and  left  me  with  a  little  farewell  wave  of  the 
hand. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A   FORMAL    CALL 

I  CHANGED  my  mind  about  calling  at  the  Milan  that 
morning,  but  toward  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  pre- 
sented myself  there,  and  gave  the  hall-porter  my  card  to 
send  up  to  Miss  Delora.  He  received  me  with  some  sur- 
prise, but  I  explained  that  I  had  been  obliged  to  postpone 
my  visit  into  the  country. 

"Miss  Delora  has  asked  twice  about  you  this  morning, 
sir,"  he  announced.  "I  gave  her  your  country  address." 

"Quite  right,"  I  answered.  "By  the  bye,  is  Mr. 
Delora  visible  yet?" 

"Not  yet,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "Rather  a  curious 
thing  about  his  return,  sir,"  he  added.  "Not  a  soul  has 
even  seen  him  yet." 

I  nodded,  but  made  no  remark.  Presently  the  boy  who 
had  taken  my  card  up  returned. 

"Miss  Delora  would  be  glad  if  you  would  step  up- 
stairs, sir,"  he  announced. 

I  followed  him  into  the  lift  and  up  to  number  157. 
Felicia  was  there  alone.  She  rose  from  the  couch  as  I 
entered,  and  waited  until  the  door  had  closed  behind  the 
disappearing  page.  Then  she  held  out  her  hands,  and 
there  was  something  in  her  eyes  which  I  could  not  resist. 
I  was  suddenly  ashamed  of  all  my  suspicions. 

"So  you  have  come  back,"  she  said  softly.  "That  is 
very  kind  of  you,  Capitaine  Rotherby.  I  have  been 
lonely  —  very  lonely,  indeed." 


A    FORMAL    CALL  169 

"I  have  come  back,"  I  answered,  taking  her  hands 
into  mine  and  holding  them  for  a  moment. 

"I  am  nervous  all  the  time,  and  afraid,"  she  continued, 
standing  close  by  my  side  and  looking  up.  "Only  think 
of  it,  Capitaine  Rotherby,  —  it  is  this  journey  to  London 
to  which  I  have  been  looking  forward  for  so  many,  many 
years,  and  now  that  it  has  come  I  am  miserable !" 

"Your  uncle —  "  I  asked. 

"They  told  me  what  was  not  true!"  she  exclaimed. 
"He  is  not  back.  I  am  here  all  alone.  He  does  not  come 
to  me,  and  he  will  not  let  me  go  to  him.  But  you  will  sit 
down,  Capitaine  Rotherby?"  she  added.  "You  are  not 
in  a  hurry  ?  You  are  not  going  away  again  ?  " 

"Not  just  yet,  at  any  rate,"  I  admitted.  "Do  you 
know  that  after  all  this  is  a  very  small  world !  I  have 
come  to  pay  you  a  formal  call  on  behalf  of  my  brother 
who  is  an  invalid." 

Her  eyes  grew  round  with  surprise. 

"But  I  do  not  understand  !"   she  said. 

I  told  her  of  my  brother's  letter  from  South  America. 
She  listened  with  interest  which  seemed  mingled  with 
anxiety. 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  she  said,  when  I  had  finished,  — 
"very  delightful,  too,  of  course!"  she  added  hurriedly. 
"Tell  me,  is  it  my  uncle  Maurice  or  my  uncle  Ferdinand 
of  whom  your  brother  spoke  most  in  his  letter?" 

"  He  did  not  mention  the  Christian  names  of  either/ 
I  told  her.  "He  simply  said  that  one  of  the  Mr.  Deloras 
and  his  niece  were  coming  to  London,  and  he  begged  us 
to  do  all  we  could  to  make  their  visit  pleasant.  Do  you 
know,"  I  continued,  "that  as  I  came  along  I  had  an 
idea?" 

"Yes?"  she  exclaimed. 


170  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Why  should  n't  you  come  down  into  the  country," 
I  said,  "to  my  aunt's?  She  will  send  you  a  telegram  at 
once  if  I  tell  her  to,  and  we  could  all  stay  together  down 
at  Feltham,  —  my  brother's  house  in  Norfolk.  You  are 
out  of  place  here.  You  are  not  enjoying  yourself,  and 
you  are  worried  to  death.  Beside  which,"  I  added  more 
slowly,  "you  are  mixed  up  with  people  with  whom  you 
should  have  nothing  whatever  to  do." 

" If  only  I  could  !"   she  murmured.    "If  only  I  could  !" 

"Why  not?"  I  said.  "Mr.  Delora  comes  here  with 
an  introduction  which  precludes  my  criticising  his  friends 
or  his  connections,  however  strange  they  may  be,  but  it 
is  very  certain  that  you  ought  not  to  be  left  here  alone  to 
rely  upon  the  advice  of  a  head-waiter,  to  be  practically 
at  the  beck  and  call  of  men  of  whose  existence  you  should 
be  unconscious.  I  want  you  to  make  up  your  mind  and 
come  away  with  me." 

A  little  flush  of  color  stole  into  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes 
danced  with  excitement. 

"I  do  no  good  here!"  she  exclaimed.  "Why  not? 
You,  too,  Capitaine  Rotherby,  —  you  would  come?" 

"I  would  take  you  there,"  I  answered,  "and  I  would 
do  my  best,  my  very  best,  to  keep  you  entertained." 

"I  shall  ask  !"   she  exclaimed.    "To-night  I  shall  ask." 

"Ask  whom?"  I  inquired.     "Louis?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"My  uncle,"  she  answered. 

"You  will  not  see  him  !"  I  exclaimed. 

"He  will  telephone,"  she  answered.  "He  has 
promised." 

I  reached  over  towards  her  and  took  her  hands  into 
mine. 

"Felicia,"   I  said   boldly,   "I   am  your  friend.     The 


A    FORMAL    CALL  171 

letter  I  bave  told  you  of  should  prove  that.  I  am  only 
anxious  for  your  good.  Tell  me  what  reason  your  uncle 
can  have  for  behaving  in  this  extraordinary  way,  for  allow- 
ing himself  to  be  associated  even  for  a  moment  with  such 
people  as  Louis  and  his  friends?" 

Everything  that  it  had  made  me  so  happy  to  see  in 
her  face  died  away.  She  was  once  more  wan  and 
anxious. 

'  I  cannot  tell  you,"  she  said,  —  "I  cannot,  because  I 
dare  not !  I  have  promised  !  Only  remember  this.  My 
uncle  has  lived  in  Paris  for  so  many  years — " 

;'But  I  thought  that  he  had  just  come  from  South 
America!"  I  interrupted. 

"Yes,  but  before  that,"  she  explained  breathlessly, — 
"  before  that !  He  loves  the  mysterious.  He  likes  to  be 
associated  with  strange  people,  and  I  do  believe,  too," 
she  continued,  "that  he  has  business  just  now  which 
must  be  kept  secret  for  the  sake  of  other  people.  Oh,  I 
know  it  must  all  seem  so  strange  to  you !  Won't  you  be- 
lieve, Capitaine  Rotherby,  that  I  am  grateful  for  your 
kindness,  and  that  I  would  tell  you  if  I  could  ?" 

"I  must,"  I  answered,  with  a  sigh.  "I  must  believe 
what  you  tell  me.  Listen,  then.  I  shall  wait  until  you 
hear  from  your  uncle." 

"Have  you  come  back  to  your  rooms?"  she  asked 
timidly. 

"I  shall  do  so,"  I  announced,  "but  I  hope  that  it  will 
be  only  for  the  night.  To-morrow,  if  all  goes  well,  we 
may  be  on  our  way  to  Norfolk." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  She  started,  and  looked 
at  me  a  little  uneasily.  Almost  immediately  the  door  was 
pushed  open.  It  was  Louis  who  entered,  bearing  a  menu 
card.  He  addressed  me  with  a  little  air  of  surprise.  I 


172  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

was  at  once  certain  that  he  had  known  of  my  visit,  and 
had  come  to  see  what  it  might  mean. 

"Monsieur  has  returned  very  soon,"  he  remarked,  bow- 
ing pleasantly. 

"My  journey  was  not  a  long  one,  Louis,"  I  answered. 
"What  have  you  brought  that  thing  for?"  I  continued, 
pointing  to  the  menu  card.  "Do  you  want  an  order  for 
dinner?  Miss  Delora  is  dining  elsewhere  with  me  i" 

My  tone  was  purposely  aggressive.  Louis'  manners, 
however,  remained  perfection. 

"Miss  Delora  has  engaged  a  table  in  the  cafe,"  he  said. 
"I  have  come  myself  to  suggest  a  l.ttle  dinner.  I  trust 
she  will  not  disappoint  us." 

She  looked  at  me  pathetically.  There  was  something 
which  I  could  not  understand  in  her  face.  Only  I  knew 
that  whatever  she  might  ask  me  I  was  prepared  to  grant. 

"Will  you  not  stay  and  dine  here  with  me?"  she  said. 
"Louis  will  give  us  a  very  good  dinner,  and  afterwards 
I  shall  have  my  message,  and  I  shall  know  whether  I  may 
go  or  not." 

The  humor  of  the  idea  appealed  to  me.  There  was 
suddenly  something  fantastic,  unbelievable,  in  the  events 
of  last  night. 

"With  pleasure!"  I  answered. 

Louis  bowed,  and  for  a  moment  or  two  seemed  entirely 
engrossed  in  the  few  additions  he  was  making  to  the 
menu  he  carried.  Then  he  handed  it  to  me  with  a  little 
bow. 

"There,  monsieur,"  he  said.  "I  think  that  you  will 
find  that  excellent." 

"I  have  no  doubt  that  we  shall,  Louis,"  I  answered. 
*'I  will  only  ask  you  to  remember  one  thing." 

"And  that,  monsieur?"  he  asked. 


A    FORMAL    CALL  173 

"I  dine  with  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "and  our  appetites 
are  identical !" 

Louis  smiled.  There  were  times  when  I  suspected  him 
of  a  sense  of  humor ! 

"Monsieur  has  not  the  thick  neck  of  Bartot !"  he  mur- 
mured, as  he  withdrew. 


CHAPTER  XXin 

FELICIA 

IT  seemed  to  me  that  Felicia  that  night  was  in  her  most 
charming  mood.  She  wore  a  dress  of  some  soft  white 
material,  and  a  large  black  hat,  under  which  her  face  — 
a  little  paler  even  than  usual  —  wore  almost  a  pathetic 
aspect.  Her  fingers  touched  my  arm  as  we  entered  the 
restaurant  together.  She  seemed,  in  a  way,  to  have  lost 
some  of  her  self-control,  —  the  exclusiveness  with  which 
she  had  surrounded  herself,  —  and  to  have  become  at 
once  more  natural  and  more  girlish.  I  noticed  that  she 
chose  a  seat  with  her  back  to  the  room,  and  I  understood 
her  reason  even  before  she  told  me. 

"I  think,"  she  said,  "that  to-night  it  would  be  pleasant 
to  forget  that  there  is  any  one  here  who  disturbs  me.  I 
think  it  would  be  pleasant  to  remember  only  that  this  great 
holiday  of  mine,  which  I  have  looked  forward  to  so  long, 
has  really  begun." 

"You  have  looked  forward  to  coming  to  London  so 
much  ?"  I  asked. 

"Yes  !"  she  answered.  "I  have  lived  a  very  quiet  life, 
Capitaine  Rotherby.  After  the  Sisters  had  finished  with 
me  —  and  I  stayed  at  the  school  longer  than  any  of  the 
others  —  I  went  straight  to  the  house  of  a  friend  of  my 
uncle's,  where  I  had  only  a  dame  de  compagnie.  My  uncle 
—  he  was  so  long  coming,  and  the  life  was  very  dull.  But 
always  he  wrote  to  me,  'Some  day  I  will  take  you  to 
London ! '  Even  when  we  were  in  Paris  together  he 
would  tell  me  that." 


FELICIA  175 

"Tell  me,"  I  asked,  "what  is  your  uncle's  Christian 
name  ?  " 

"I  have  three  uncles,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation,—  "Maurice,  Ferdinand,  and  Nicholas.  Nicholas 
lives  all  the  time  in  South  America.  Maurice  and  Ferdi- 
nand are  often  in  Paris." 

"And  the  uncle  with  whom  you  are  now?"   I  asked. 

I  seemed  to  have  been  unfortunate  in  my  choice  of  a 
conversation.  Her  eyes  had  growrn  larger.  The  quiverirg 
of  her  lips  was  almost  pitiful. 

"I  am  a  clumsy  ass!"  I  interrupted  quickly.  "I  am 
asking  you  questions  which  you  do  not  wish  to  answer. 
A  little  later  on,  perhaps,  you  will  tell  me  everything 
of  your  own  accord.  But  to-night  I  shall  ask  you 
nothing.  We  will  remember  only  that  the  holiday  has 
begun." 

She  drew  a  little  sigh  of  relief. 

"You  are  so  kind,"  she  murmured,  "so  very  kind.  In- 
deed I  do  not  want  to  think  of  these  things,  which  I  do  not 
understand,  and  which  only  puzzle  me  all  the  time.  We 
will  let  them  alone,  is  it  not  so  ?  We  will  let  them  alone 
and  talk  about  foolish  things.  Or  you  shall  tell  me  about 
London,  and  the  country  —  tell  me  what  we  will  do.  In- 
deed, I  may  go  dowrn  to  your  home  in  Norfolk." 

"I  think  you  wyill  like  it  there,"  I  said.  "It  is  too  stuffy 
for  London  these  months.  My  brother's  house  is  not  far 
from  the  sea.  There  is  a  great  park  which  stretches  down 
to  some  marshes,  and  beyond  that  the  sands." 

"Can  one  bathe?"   she  asked  breathlessly. 

"Of  course,"  I  answered.  "There  is  a  private  beach, 
and  when  we  have  people  in  the  house  at  this  time  of  the 
year  we  always  have  the  motor-car  ready  to  take  them 
down  and  back.  That  is  for  those  who  bathe  early. 


176  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Later  on  it  is  only  a  pleasant  walk.  Then  you  can 
learn  games  if  you  like,  —  golf  and  tennis,  cricket  and 
croquet." 

"I  should  be  so  stupid,"  she  said,  with  a  little  regretful 
sigh.  "In  France  they  did  not  teach  me  those  things.  I 
can  play  tennis  a  little,  but  oh  !  so  badly;  and  in  England," 
she  continued,  "you  think  so  much  of  your  games.  Tell 
me,  Capitaine  Rotherby,  will  you  think  me  very  stupid  in 
the  country  if  I  can  do  nothing  but  swim  a  little  and  play 
tennis  very  badly?" 

"Rather  not !"  I  answered.  "There  is  the  motor,  you 
know.  I  could  take  you  for  some  delightful  drives.  ^Ye 
should  find  plenty  to  do,  I  am  sure,  and  I  promise  you 
that  if  only  you  will  be  as  amiable  as  you  are  here  I  shall 
not  find  any  fault." 

"You  will  like  to  have  me  there?"  she  asked. 

Her  question  came  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child.  She 
laughed  softly  with  pleasure  when  I  leaned  over  the  table 
and  whispered  to  her,  — 

"Better  than  anything  else  in  the  world !" 

"I  am  not  sure,  Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  looking 
at  me  out  of  her  great  eyes,  "whether  you  are  behaving 
nicely." 

"  If  I  am  not,"  I  declared,  "  it  is  your  fault !  You  should 
not  look  so  charming." 

She  laughed  softly. 

"And  you  sliould  not  make  such  speeches  to  a  poor 
little  foreign  girl,"  she  said,  "who  knows  so  little  of  your 
London  ways." 

Louis  stood  suddenly  before  us.  We  felt  his  pres- 
ence like  a  cold  shadow.  The  laughter  died  away  from 
her  eves,  and  I  found  it  difficult  enough  to  address  him 
civilly. 


FELICIA  177 

"Monsieur  is  well  served?"  he  asked.  "Everything 
all  right,  eh?" 

"Everything  is  very  good,  as  usual,  Louis,"  I  answered. 
"The  only  thing  that  is  amiss  you  cannot  alter." 

"For  example?"  he  asked. 

"The  atmosphere,"  I  answered.  "It  is  no  weather  for 
London." 

"Monsieur  is  right,"  he  admitted.  "He  is  thinking  of 
departing  for  the  country  soon  ? " 

"It  depends  a  little  upon  mademoiselle,"  I  answered. 

Louis  shook  his  head  very  slowly.  He  had  the  air  of  a 
man  who  discusses  something  with  infinite  regret. 

"It  would  be  very  delightful  indeed,"  he  said,  "if  it 
were  possible  for  mademoiselle  to  go  into  Norfolk  to  your 
brother's  house.  It  would  be  very  good  for  mademoiselle, 
but  I  am  not  sure  —  I  fear  that  her  uncle  — " 

"How  the  mischief  did  you  know  anything  about  it?" 
I  asked  in  amazement. 

Louis  smiled  —  that  subtle,  half-concealed  smile  which 
seemed  scarcely  to  part  his  lips. 

"Why  should  not  mademoiselle  have  told  me?"  he 
asked. 

"But  I  have  not !"  she  declared  suddenly.  "I  have  not 
seen  Louis  since  you  were  here  this  afternoon,  Capitaine 
Rotherby." 

Louis  extended  his  hands. 

"It  is  true,"  he  admitted.  "It  is  not  from  mademoiselle 
that  I  had  the  news.  But  there,  one  cannot  tell.  Things 
may  alter  at  any  moment.  It  may  be  very  pleasant  for 
Monsieur  Delora  that  his  niece  is  able  to  accept  this 
charming  invitation." 

"  So  you  have  been  in  communication  with  Mr.  Delora, 
Louis  ?  "  I  asked. 


178  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"  Naturally,"  Louis  answered.  "  He  told  me  of  made- 
moiselle's request.  He  told  me  that  he  had  promised  to 
reply  at  ten  o'clock  this  evening." 

"  Perhaps  you  can  tell  us,"  I  remarked,  "  what  that 
reply  will  be  ?  " 

Louis'  face  remained  absolutely  expressionless.  He 
only  shook  his  head. 

"  Mr.  Delora  is  his  own  master,"  he  said.  "  It  may 
suit  him  to  be  without  mademoiselle,  or  it  may  not.  Par- 
don, monsieur ! " 

Louis  was  gone,  but  he  had  left  his  shadow  behind. 

"  He  does  not  think,"  she  murmured,  "  that  I  may 
come ! " 

"  Felicia,  —  "  I  said. 

"  But  I  did  not  say  that  you  might  call  me  Felicia ! " 
she  interrupted. 

"  Then  do  say  so,"  I  begged. 

"For  this  evening,  then,"  she  assented. 

"For  this  evening,  then,  Felicia,"  I  continued.  "I  do 
not  wish  to  worry  you  by  talking  about  certain  things, 
but  do  you  not  think  yourself  that  your  uncle  is  very  in- 
considerate to  leave  you  here  alone  on  your  first  visit  to 
London,  —  not  to  come  near  the  place,  or  provide  you 
with  any  means  of  amusement?  Why  should  he  hesitate 
to  let  you  come  to  us  ?" 

"We  will  not  talk  of  it,"  she  begged,  a  little  nervously. 
"I  must  do  as  he  wishes.  We  will  hope  that  he  says  yes, 
will  we  not?" 

"He  must  say  yes!"  I  declared.  "If  he  doesn't  I  '11 
find  out  where  he  is,  somehow,  and  go  and  talk  to 
him!" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"He  is  very  much  engaged,"  she  said.    "He  would  not 


FELICIA  179 

like  you  to  find  him  out,  nor  would  he  have  any  time  to 
talk  to  you." 

"Selling  his  coffee?"   I  could  not  help  saying. 

"To-night,  Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  answered  softly, 
"we  do  not  talk  of  those  things.  Tell  me  what  else  we 
shall  do  down  at  your  brother's  house  ?" 

"We  shall  go  for  long  walks,"  I  told  her.  "There  are 
beautiful  gardens  there  —  a  rose  garden  more  than  a 
hundred  years  old,  and  at  the  end  of  it  a  footpath  which 
leads  through  a  pine  plantation  and  then  down  to  the  sea 
marshes.  We  can  sit  and  watch  the  sea  and  talk,  and  when 
you  find  it  dull  we  will  fill  the  house  with  young  people, 
and  play  games  and  dance  —  dance  by  moonlight,  if  you 
like.  Or  we  can  go  fishing,"  I  continued.  "There  is  a 
small  yacht  there  and  a  couple  of  sailing-boats." 

She  listened  as  though  afraid  of  losing  a  single  word. 

"Tell  me,"  I  asked,  "have  you  been  lonely  all  your  life, 
child?" 

"All  my  life,"  she  answered,  and  somehow  or  other  her 
voice  seemed  to  me  full  of  tears,  so  that  I  was  almost  sur- 
prised to  find  her  eyes  dry.  "Yes,  I  have  always  been 
lonely!"  she  murmured.  "My  uncle  has  been  kind  to 
me,  but  he  has  always  some  great  scheme  on  hand,  and 
Madame  Miiller  —  she  would  be  kind  if  she  knew  how,  I 
think,  but  she  is  as  though  she  were  made  of  wood.  She 
has  no  sympathy,  she  does  not  understand." 

"I  wonder,"  I  said  reflectively,  "what  made  your  uncle 
bring  you  here." 

"It  was  a  promise,"  she  said  hurriedly,  —  "a  promise 
of  long  ago.  You  yourself  must  know  that.  Your  letter 
from  your  brother  in  South  America  said,  'Mr.  Delora 
and  his  niece.'" 

"It  is  true,"  I  admitted.    "But  why  he  should  want 


*8o  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

to  bring  you  and  then  neglect  you  like  this —  But  I 
Forgot,"  I  interrupted.  "We  must  not  talk  so.  Tell  me, 
you  have  been  often  to  the  theatre  in  Paris?" 

"Very  seldom,"  she  answered,  "and  I  love  it  so  much. 
Madame  Mliller  and  I  go  sometimes,  but  where  we  live 
is  some  distance  from  Paris,  and  it  is  difficult  to  get  home 
afterwards,  especially  for  us  two  alone.  My  uncle  takes 
us  sometimes,  but  he  is  generally  so  occupied." 

"He  is  often  in  Paris,  then?"   I  asked. 

She  started  a  little. 

"Yes!"  she  said  hurriedly.  "He  is  often  there,  of 
course.  But  please  do  not  forget,  —  to-night  we  do  not 
talk  about  my  uncle.  We  talk  about  ourselves.  May  I 
ask  you  something?" 

"Certainly!"  I  answered. 

"If  my  uncle  says  'No  !'  —  that  I  may  not  come  —  do 
you  go  away  altogether,  then,  to-morrow?" 

"No,"  I  answered,  "I  do  not!  I  shall  not  leave  you 
alone  here.  So  long  as  you  stay,  I  shall  remain  in  London." 

She  drew  a  little  breath,  and  with  a  quick,  impetuous 
movement  her  hand  stole  across  the  table  and  pressed 
mine. 

"It  is  so  good  of  you  !"  she  murmured. 

"I  am  afraid  that  it  is  selfishness,  Felicia,"  I  answered. 
"I  should  not  care  to  go  away  and  leave  you  here.  I  am 
beginning  to  find,"  I  added,  "that  the  pleasures  in  life 
which  do  not  include  you  count  for  very  little." 

"You  will  turn  my  head,"  she  declared,  with  a  delight- 
ful little  laugh. 

"It  is  the  truth,"  I  assured  her. 

"I  am  quite  sure  now,"  she  murmured,  "that  my  great 
holiday  has  commenced  ! " 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A   TANTALIZING   GLIMPSE 

FELICIA  laid  down  the  receiver  and  looked  at  me.  There 
was  scarcely  any  need  for  words.  Her  disappointment 
was  written  into  her  white  face. 

"You  are  not  to  come!"  I  said. 

"I  am  not  —  to  come,"  she  repeated.  "After  all,  my 
holiday  is  not  yet." 

"Will  you  tell  me,"  I  asked,  "where  I  can  find  your 
uncle?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"You  must  not  ask  me  such  a  thing,"  she  declared. 

"Remember,"  I  said,  "that  I  have  really  called  to 
make  his  acquaintance  as  a  matter  of  courtesy  on  behalf 
of  my  brother.  What  excuse  do  you  give  me  for  his  ab- 
sence ?  Tell  me  what  it  is  that  you  are  supposed  to  say  in 
such  a  case?" 

"Simply  that  he  is  away  for  a  few  days,  engaged  in  the 
most  important  business,"  she  answered.  "He  will  rejoin 
me  here  directly  it  is  settled." 

"And  in  the  meantime,"  I  said  thoughtfully,  "you  are 
left  in  a  strange  hotel  without  friends,  without  a  chaperon, 
absolutely  unprotected,  and  with  only  a  head -waiter  in 
your  confidence.  Felicia,  there  is  something  very  wrong 
here.  I  am  not  sure,"  I  continued,  "that  it  is  not  my 
duty  to  run  away  with  you." 

She  clasped  her  hands. 


182  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Delightful!"  she  murmured.  "But  I  must  n't  think 
of  it,"  she  added,  with  a  sudden  gravity,  "nor  must  you 
talk  to  me  like  that.  What  my  uncle  says  is  best  to  be 
done.  He  knows  and  understands.  If  he  has  had  to 
leave  me  here  alone,  it  is  because  it  is  necessary." 

"You  have  a  great  deal  of  faith  in  him,"  I  remarked. 

"He  has  always  been  kind  to  me,"  she  answered,  "and 
I  know  that  the  business  upon  which  he  is  engaged  just 
now  is  hazardous  and  difficult.  There  are  men  who  do 
not  wish  it  to  go  through,  and  they  watch  for  him.  If  they 
knew  his  whereabouts  they  would  try  to  stop  him." 

"Felicia,  do  you  know  what  that  business  is  ?"  I  asked. 

"I  have  some  idea  of  it,"  she  answered. 

Her  answer  puzzled  me.  If  Felicia  really  had  any  idea 
as  to  the  nature  of  it,  and  was  content  to  play  the  part  she 
was  playing,  it  certainly  could  not  be  anything  of  an  illicit 
nature.  Yet  everything  else  which  had  come  under  my 
notice  pointed  to  Delora's  being  associated  with  a  criminal 
undertaking.  I  paced  the  room,  deep  in  thought.  Felicia 
all  the  time  was  watching  me  anxiously. 

"You  are  not  going  to  leave  me?"  she  asked  very 
softly. 

I  came  to  a  standstill  before  her. 

"No,  Felicia,"  I  said,  "I  am  not  going  to  leave  you  ! 
But  I  want  to  tell  you  this.  I  am  going  to  try  and  find 
out  for  myself  the  things  which  you  will  not  tell  me.  No, 
you  must  not  try  to  stop  me!"  I  said,  anticipating  the 
words  which  indeed  had  trembled  upon  her  lips.  "It 
must  be  either  that  or  farewell,  Felicia.  I  cannot  remain 
here  and  do  absolutely  nothing.  I  want  to  find  your 
uncle,  and  to  have  some  sort  of  an  explanation  from  him, 
and  I  mean  to  do  it." 

She  shook  her  head. 


A    TANTALIZING    GLIMPSE  183 

"There  are  others  who  are  trying  to  find  him,"  she  said, 
"but  I  do  not  think  that  they  will  succeed.  The  young 
man  who  was  here  the  other  night,  for  instance." 

"If  1  fail,  I  fail,"  I  answered.  "At  any  rate,  I  shall  be 
doing  something.  I  must  go  back  to  my  brother's  to- 
night, Felicia,  because  I  have  promised  to  stay  with  him. 
In  a  day  or  two  I  shall  return  to  my  rooms  here,  and  I 
shall  do  my  best  to  find  out  the  meaning  of  your  uncle's 
mysterious  movements.  It  may  seem  impertinent  to  you 
to  interfere  in  anybody  else's  concerns.  I  cannot  help  it. 
It  is  for  your  sake.  The  present  position  is  impossible  !" 

"You  are  not  staying  here  to-night?"   she  asked. 

"To-night,  no !"  I  answered.  "I  will  let  you  know 
directly  I  return." 

"There  is  one  thing  else,  Capitaine  Rotherby.  Could 
you  promise  it  to  me,  I  wonder?" 

"I  will  try,"  I  answered. 

"Do  not  quarrel  any  more,  if  you  can  help  it,"  she 
begged,  "with  Louis!" 

Her  question  forced  a  laugh  from  my  lips.  Quarrel 
with  Louis,  indeed  !  What  more  could  I  do  in  that  direc- 
tion ?  Then  I  frowned,  in  temporary  annoyance.  I  hated 
to  hear  her  speak  of  him  as  a  person  to  be  considered. 

"Louis  is  a  venomous  little  person,"  I  said,  "but  I 
certainly  should  not  quarrel  with  him  more  than  I  can 
help.  I  am,  unfortunately,  in  his  debt,  or  I  should  have 
dealt  with  him  before  now." 

I  glanced  at  the  clock  and  jumped  up.  It  was  very 
much  later  than  I  had  thought.  She  gave  me  her  hands 
a  little  wistfully. 

"I  do  not  like  to  think  of  you  here  alone,"  I  said.  "I 
wish  that  I  could  persuade  you  to  engage  a  maid." 

She  shook  her  head. 


184  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"My  uncle  would  not  allow  it,"  she  said  simply.  "He 
says  that  servants  are  always  prying  into  one's  concerns. 
Good  night,  Capitaine  Rotherby !  Thank  you  so  much 
for  taking  me  out  this  evening.  After  all,  I  cannot  help 
feeling  that  it  has  been  rather  like  the  beginning  of  this 
holiday." 

I  held  her  hands  tightly  in  mine. 

"When  it  really  begins,"  I  answered,  "I  shall  try  and 
make  it  a  little  more  interesting  ! " 

I  declined  a  taxicab  and  turned  to  walk  back  to  my 
brother's  hotel.  Certainly  in  the  problem  of  these  two 
people  who  had  come  so  curiously  into  my  life  there  was 
very  much  to  give  me  matter  for  thought.  I  believed  in 
the  girl,  and  trusted  her.  More  than  that  I  did  not  dare  to 
ask  myself !  I  should  have  believed  in  her,  even  if  her 
uncle  were  proved  to  be  a  criminal  of  the  most  dangerous 
type.  But  none  the  less  I  could  not  help  realizing  that 
her  present  position  was  a  singularly  unfortunate  one.  To 
be  alone  in  a  big  hotel,  without  maid  or  chaperon,  herself 
caught  up  in  this  web  of  mystery  which  Louis  and  those 
others  seemed  to  have  woven  around  her,  was  in  itself 
undesirable  and  unnatural.  Whatever  was  transpiring, 
I  was  quite  certain  that  her  share  in  it  was  a  passive  one. 
She  had  been  told  to  be  silent,  and  she  was  silent.  Nothing 
would  ever  make  me  believe  that  she  was  a  party  to  any 
wrong-doing.  And  yet  the  more  I  thought  of  Delora  the 
less  I  trusted  him.  At  Charing  Cross  Station,  for  instance, 
his  had  not  been  the  anxiety  of  a  man  intrusted  with  a 
difficult  mission.  His  agitation  had  been  due  to  fear,  — 
fear  abject  and  absolute.  I  had  seen  the  symptoms  more 
than  once  in  my  life,  and  there  was  no  mistaking  them. 
I  told  myself  that  no  man  could  be  so  shaken  who  was 


A    TANTALIZING    GLIMPSE  185 

engaged  in  honest  dealings.  Even  now  he  was  in  hiding, 
—  it  could  not  be  called  anything  else,  —  and  the  one 
person  with  whom  I  had  come  in  touch  who  was  search- 
ing for  him  was,  without  a  doubt,  on  the  side  of  law  and 
justice,  with  at  least  some  settled  position  behind  him. 
Delora's  deportment  was  more  the  deportment  of  a  fugi- 
tive from  justice  than  of  a  man  in  the  confidence  of  his 
government. 

Walking  a  little  carelessly,  I  took  a  turn  too  far  north- 
ward, and  found  myself  in  one  of  the  streets  leading  out  of 
Shaftesbury  Avenue.  I  was  on  the  point  of  taking  a  pas- 
sage which  would  lead  me  more  in  my  proper  direction, 
when  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  large  motor-car 
standing  outside  one  of  the  small  foreign  restaurants  which 
abound  in  this  district.  I  was  always  interested  in  cars, 
but  I  noticed  this  one  more  particularly  from  the  fact  of 
its  utter  incompatibility  with  its  surroundings.  It  was  one 
of  the  handsomest  cars  I  had  ever  seen,  —  a  sixty  to  eighty 
horse-power  Daimler,  —  fitted  up  inside  with  the  utmost 
luxury.  The  panels  were  plain,  and  the  chauffeur,  who 
sat  motionless  in  his  place,  wore  dark  livery  and  was  ap- 
parently a  foreigner.  I  slackened  my  pace  to  glance  for  a 
moment  at  the  non-skidding  device  on  the  back  tire,  and 
as  I  passed  on  I  saw  the  door  of  the  little  restaurant  open, 
and  a  tall  commissionnaire  hurried  out.  He  held  open  the 
door  of  the  car  and  stood  at  attention.  Two  men  issued 
from  the  restaurant  and  crossed  the  pavement.  I  turned 
deliberately  round  to  watch  them  —  vulgar  curiosity,  per- 
haps, but  a  curiosity  which  I  never  regretted.  The  first 
man  —  tall  and  powerful  —  wore  the  splendid  dress  and 
black  silk  cap  of  a  Chinese  of  high  rank.  The  man  who 
followed  him  was  Delora.  I  knew  him  in  a  second,  al- 
though he  wore  a  white  silk  scarf  around  his  neck,  conceal- 


i86  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

ing  the  lower  part  of  his  face,  and  a  silk  hat  pushed  down 
almost  over  his  eyes.  I  saw  his  little  nervous  glance  up 
and  down  the  street,  I  saw  him  push  past  the  commission- 
naire  as  though  in  a  hurry  to  gain  the  semi-obscurity  of 
the  car.  I  stopped  short  upon  the  pavement,  motionless 
for  one  brief  and  fatal  moment.  Then  I  turned  back 
and  hastened  to  the  side  of  the  car.  I  knocked  at  the 
window. 

"Delora,"  I  said,  "I  must  speak  to  you." 

The  car  had  begun  to  move.  I  wrenched  at  the  handle, 
but  I  found  it  held  on  the  inside  with  a  grip  which  even  I 
could  not  move.  I  looked  into  the  broad,  expressionless 
face  of  the  Chinaman,  who,  leaning  forward,  completely 
shielded  the  person  of  the  man  with  whom  I  sought  to 
speak. 

"One  moment,"  I  called  out.  "I  must  speak  with 
Mr.  Delora.  I  have  a  message  for  him." 

The  car  was  going  faster  now.  I  tried  to  jump  on  to  the 
step,  but  the  first  time  I  missed  it.  Then  the  window  was 
suddenly  let  down.  The  Chinaman's  arm  flashed  out  and 
struck  me  on  the  chest,  so  that  I  was  forced  to  relinquish 
my  grasp  of  the  handle.  I  reeled  back,  preserving  my 
balance  only  by  a  desperate  effort.  Before  I  could  start  in 
pursuit,  the  car  had  turned  into  the  more  crowded  thorough- 
fare, and  when  I  reached  the  spot  where  it  had  disappeared 
a  few  seconds  later,  it  was  lost  amongst  the  stream  of 
vehicles. 

I  went  back  to  the  restaurant.  It  was  like  a  hundred 
others  of  its  class  —  stuffy,  smelly,  reminiscent  of  the 
poorer  business  quarters  of  a  foreign  city.  A  waiter  in  a 
greasy  dress-suit  flicked  some  crumbs  from  a  vacant  table 
and  motioned  me  to  sit  down.  I  ordered  a  Fin  Champagne, 
and  put  half-a-crown  into  his  hand. 


A    TANTALIZING    GLIMPSE  187 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "five  minutes  ago  a  Chinaman  and 
another  man  were  here." 

The  man  laid  the  half-crown  down  on  the  table.  His 
manner  had  undergone  a  complete  change. 

"Perhaps  so,  sir,"  he  answered.  "We  have  been  busy 
to-night.  I  noticed  nobody." 

I  called  the  proprietor  to  me  —  a  little  pale-faced  man 
with  a  black  moustache,  who  had  been  hovering  in  the 
background.  He  hastened  to  my  side,  smiling  and  bowing. 
This  time  I  did  not  ask  him  a  direct  question. 

"I  am  interested  in  the  restaurants  of  this  quarter," 
I  said.  "Some  one  has  told  me  that  your  dinner  is 
marvellous !" 

He  smiled  a  little  suspiciously.  The  word  was  perhaps 
unfortunate ! 

"I  am  bringing  some  friends  to  try  it  very  soon,"  I  said. 

The  waiter  brought  my  Fin  Champagne.  I  drank  it 
and  ordered  a  cigar. 

"You  have  all  sorts  of  people  here,"  I  remarked.  "I 
noticed  a  Chinaman  —  he  was  very  much  like  the  Chinese 
ambassador,  by  the  bye  —  leaving  as  I  came  in." 

The  proprietor  extended  his  hands. 

"We  have  people  of  every  class,  monsieur,"  he  assured 
me.  "One  comes  and  tells  his  friends,  and  they  come, 
and  so  on.  I  believe  that  there  was  a  Chinese  gentleman 
here  to-night.  One  does  not  notice.  We  were  busy." 

I  paid  my  bill  and  departed.  The  commissionnaire 
pushed  open  the  door,  whistle  in  hand.  He  looked  at  me 
a  little  curiously.  Without  doubt  he  had  watched  my 
attempt  to  speak  to  Delora.  I  drew  a  half-sovereign  from 
my  pocket. 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "do  you  want  to  earn  that?" 

He  was  a  German,  with  a  large  pasty  face  and  a  yellow 


i88  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

moustache.  His  eyes  were  small,  and  they  seemed  to 
contract  with  greed  as  they  looked  upon  the  coin. 

"Sir!"    he  answered,  with  a  bow. 

"Who  was  the  Chinese  gentleman  with  the  splendid 
motor-car?"  I  asked. 

The  man  spread  out  his  hands. 

"Who  can  tell?"  he  said.  "He  dined  here  to-night  in 
a  private  room." 

A  private  room  !    Well,  that  was  something,  at  any  rate  ! 

"You  do  not  know  his  name  or  where  he  comes  from  ?" 
I  asked. 

The  man  shook  his  head,  glancing  nervously  towards 
the  interior  of  the  restaurant. 

"The  other  gentleman  ?"  I  asked. 

"I  do  not  know  his  name,  sir,"  the  man  declared  with 
emphasis.  "He  has  been  here  once  or  twice,  but  always 
alone." 

I  put  the  half-sovereign  in  my  pocket  and  drew  out  a 
sovereign.  The  man  stretched  out  an  eager  hand  which 
he  suddenly  dropped.  He  pointed  down  the  street.  The 
swing  door  of  the  restaurant  remained  closed,  but  over 
the  soiled  white  curtain  I  also  could  see  the  face  of  the 
proprietor  peering  out. 

"It  is  the  second  turn  to  the  left,"  the  man  said  to  me. 

"And  if  you  want  that  sovereign  made  into  five,"  I 
said  carelessly,  "my  name  is  Captain  Rotherby,  and  I  am 
going  from  here  to  Claridge's  Hotel." 

I  walked  down  the  street  and  left  him  looking  after  me. 
At  the  corner  I  glanced  around.  The  proprietor  and  the 
commissionaire  were  talking  together  on  the  pavement. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

PRIVATE   AND    DIPLOMATIC 

THE  following  evening  I  dined  alone  with  my  brother, 
who  was,  for  him,  in  an  unusually  cheerful  frame  of  mind. 
He  talked  with  more  interest  of  life  and  his  share  in  it 
than  he  had  done  —  to  me,  at  any  rate  —  since  the 
tragedy  which  had  deprived  him  of  a  home.  Toward  the 
end  of  dinner  I  asked  him  a  question. 

"Ralph,"  I  said,  "how  could  I  meet  the  Chinese  am- 
bassador here  ?  " 

He  stared  at  me  for  a  moment. 

"Why,  at  any  of  the  diplomatic  receptions,  I  suppose," 
he  said,  seeing  that  I  was  in  earnest.  "He  is  rather  a  pal 
of  Freddy's.  Why  don't  you  ring  up  and  ask  him?" 

"I  will,  the  moment  after  dinner,"  I  answered. 

"Why  this  sudden  interest  in  Orientalism?"  Ralph 
asked  curiously. 

"Curiously  enough,  it  is  apropos  of  these  Deloras,"  I 
answered.  "I  called  to-day,  but  only  found  the  girl  in. 
The  man  I  saw  later  with  a  Chinaman  whom  I  believe  to 
be  the  ambassador." 

"What  is  the  girl  like  ?"  my  brother  asked. 

"Charming  !"  I  answered.  "I  am  writing  Aunt  Mary 
to  invite  her  down  to  Feltham.  The  difficulty  seems  to 
be  to  get  hold  of  Delora." 

"  So  you  've  written  Aunt  Mary,  eh  ?  "  Ralph  remarked, 
looking  up  at  me.  "Austen,  I  believe  you're  gone  on  the 
girl!" 


igo  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  believe  I  am,"  I  admitted  equably.  "So  would  you 
be  if  you  saw  her." 

Ralph  half  closed  his  eyes  for  a  moment.  It  was  a 
clumsy  speech  of  mine! 

"Seriously,  Austen,"  he  continued,  a  few  moments 
later,  "have  you  ever  thought  of  marrying?" 

"Equally  seriously,  Ralph,"  I  answered,  "not  until  I 
met  Felicia  Delora." 

"Felicia  Delora!"  my  brother  repeated.  "It's  a  pretty 
name,  at  any  rate.  I  suppose  I  must  go  and  see  her  myself." 

"Wait  for  a  day  or  two,  Ralph,"  I  begged.  "She  is  a 
little  upset  just  now.  Her  uncle  seems  to  be  neglecting 
her  for  some  precious  scheme  of  his." 

"I  wonder  if,  by  any  chance,  you  are  hi  earnest,  Aus- 
ten?" my  brother  asked. 

"I  should  not  be  surprised,"  I  admitted. 

"It's  an  interesting  subject,  you  know,"  Ralph  con- 
tinued gravely.  "Considering  my  accident,  and  other 
things  which  we  need  not  allude  to,  I  think  we  may  take 
it  for  granted  that  there's  no  chance  of  my  ever  having  an 
heir.  It's  our  duty  to  look  ahead  a  little,  you  know, 
Austen.  There  is  n't  any  manner  of  doubt  that  some  time 
between  now  and  the  next  ten  years  you  will  have  to  take 
up  my  place.  I  only  hope  you  won't  make  such  a  hash 
of  it." 

"Don't  talk  rubbish,  Ralph  !"   I  answered. 

"It  isn't  rubbish,"  he  said  firmly.  "You  go  and  talk 
to  my  doctor  if  you  don't  believe  me.  However,  I  had  n't 
meant  to  say  anything  about  this  to-night.  Your  mention- 
ing the  girl  put  it  into  my  head.  I  want  you,  of  course,  to 
know  that  I  am  not  forgetful  of  my  responsibilities.  Your 
two  thousand  a  year  may  do  you  very  well  as  a  bachelor, 
but  vou  are  heir  apparent  to  the  title  now,  and  if  you  should 


PRIVATE    AND    DIPLOMATIC         191 

think  of  marrying,  the  Fakenham  estates  are  yours,  and 
the  house.  They  bring  in  between  six  and  seven  thousand 
a  year,  I  think,  —  never  less." 

"It's  very  good  of  you,  Ralph,  —  "  I  began. 

"It's  nothing  of  the  sort,"  he  answered.  "It's  your 
rightful  position.  The  Fakenham  estates  have  been  held 
by  the  heir  apparent  for  generations.  Tell  me  a  little 
about  this  Miss  Delora." 

"I'll  bring  her  to  see  you  presently,  Ralph,"  I  answered. 

"You  are  in  earnest,  then?"  he  remarked,  with  a 
smile. 

"I  believe  so,"  I  answered. 

He  looked  at  me  once  more,  searchingly. 

"There  is  something  on  your  mind,  Austen,"  he  said,  — 
"something  bothering  you.  I  believe  it  is  about  these 
Deloras,  too.  Is  there  something  about  them  which  you 
can't  understand,  eh?" 

"There  is,  Ralph,"  I  admitted.  "You  saw  what  Dicky 
said.  They  are  people  of  consequence  in  their  own 
country,  at  any  rate,  yet  over  here  the  man  seems  to 
behave  like  a  hunted  criminal." 

"Dicky  also  said,"  Ralph  remarked,  "that  the  man  was 
intrusted  with  some  business  over  here  for  his  govern- 
ment. Nasty  underhand  lot,  those  republics  of  the 
Southern  Hemisphere.  I  dare  say  he  is  driven  to  be  a 
bit  mysterious  to  carry  the  thing  through." 

"I  shall  know  more  about  it  soon,  I  hope,"  I  answered. 
"I'll  go  and  ring  Freddy  up,  if  you  don't  mind,  now." 

Ralph  nodded. 

"I'm  off  to  my  room,  at  any  rate,  old  chap,"  he  said. 
"Groves  is  going  abroad  for  a  month's  holiday,  and  he 
has  brought  somf  papers  for  me  to  look  through.  See  you 
some  time  to-morrow." 


i92  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

I  made  my  way  into  the  little  sitting-room  which  be- 
longed to  the  suite  of  rooms  my  brother  had  placed  at  my 
disposal.  There  I  rang  up  Lord  Frederic  Maynard,  my 
first  cousin,  and  a  junior  member  of  the  government.  The 
butler  told  me  that  Lord  Frederic  was  dining,  but  would 
doubtless  speak  to  me  for  a  moment.  In  a  minute  or  two 
I  heard  his  familiar  voice. 

"Freddy,"  I  said,  "I  want  to  meet  the  Chinese 
ambassador." 

"Eleven  till  one  to-night  here,"  he  answered.  ""What 
the  devil  do  you  want  with  him?" 

"Do  you  mean  that  he  is  coming  to  your  house  to- 
night?" I  asked. 

"Exactly,"  Freddy  answered.  "We've  a  political 
reception,  semi-diplomatic.  I  saw  our  old  friend  only 
yesterday,  and  he  reminded  me  that  he  was  coming." 

"You're  a  brick,  Freddy!"  I  answered.  "I  '11  be 
round." 

"You  have  not  answered  my  question,"  he  reminded  me. 

"I'll  tell  you  later,"  I  answered,  and  rang  off. 

I  was  at  Maynard  House  very  soon  after  eleven,  and, 
after  chatting  for  a  little  while  with  my  hostess,  I  hung 
around  near  the  entrance,  watching  the  arrivals.  About 
midnight  His  Excellency  the  Chinese  ambassador  was 
announced,  and  I  felt  a  little  thrill  of  exultation.  I  was 
right !  The  tall,  powerful-looking  man  whom  I  saw 
bowing  over  my  cousin's  hand  was  indeed  the  person 
whom  I  had  seen  with  Delora  a  few  hours  ago.  I  ran 
Freddy  to  ground,  and  presently  I  found  myself  also 
bowing  before  His  Excellency.  He  regarded  me  through 
his  horn-rimmed  spectacles  with  a  benign  and  pleasant 
expression.  I  had  been  in  the  East,  and  I  talked  for  a  few 


PRIVATE    AND    DIPLOMATIC        193 

moments  upon  the  subjects  which  I  thought  would  interest 
him. 

"Your  Excellency,  I  dare  say,  is  well  acquainted  with 
London,"  I  remarked,  apropos  of  something  he  said. 

"I  know  your  great  city  only  indifferently,"  he  answered. 
"I  am  always  anxious  to  take  the  opportunity  of  seeing 
more  of  it." 

"Last  evening,  for  instance,"  I  remarked,  "Your 
Excellency  was,  I  think,  exploring  a  very  interesting 
neighborhood." 

"Last  evening,"  he  repeated.  "Let  me  think.  No,  not 
last  evening,  Captain  Rotherby !  I  was  giving  a  little 
dinner  at  my  own  house." 

I  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  silence.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  learned  from  his  expression. 

"I  thought,"  I  said,  "  that  I  saw  your  Excellency  in  a 
street  near  Shaftesbury  Avenue,  leaving  a  small  foreign 
restaurant,  —  the  Cafe  Universel.  Your  Excellency  was 
with  a  man  named  Delora." 

Very  slowly  the  ambassador  shook  his  head. 

"Not  me!"  he  said.  "Not  me!  I  did  dine  with  the 
younger  members  of  the  Legation  in  Langham  Place. 
What  name  did  you  say  ?" 

"A  man  named  Delora,"  I  repeated. 

Once  more  the  ambassador  shook  his  head,  slowly  and 
thoughtfully. 

"Delora!"  he  repeated.  "The  name  is  unknown  to 
me.  There  are  many  others  of  my  race  in  London  now," 
he  continued.  "The  costume,  perhaps,  makes  one  seem 
like  another  to  those  who  look  and  pass  by." 

I  bowed  very  low.  It  was  the  most  magnificently  told 
lie  to  which  I  had  ever  listened  in  my  life !  His  Excel- 
lency smiled  at  me  graciously  as  I  made  my  adieux,  and 


i94  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

passed  on.  Despite  my  disappointment,  I  felt  that  I  was 
now  becoming  profoundly  interested  in  my  quest.  The 
evidence,  too,  was  all  in  favor  of  Delora.  It  seemed, 
indeed,  as  though  this  undertaking  in  which  he  was 
involved  might,  after  all,  be  connected  with  other  things 
than  crime ! 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

NEARLY 

IT  was  past  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  I  returned  to 
the  hotel,  yet  the  porter  who  admitted  me  pointed  toward 
the  figure  of  a  man  who  stood  waiting  in  the  dimly  lit  hall. 

"There  is  a  person  here  who  has  been  waiting  to  see 
you  for  some  hours,  sir,"  he  said.  "His  name  is  Fritz." 

"To  see  me?"   I  repeated. 

The  man  came  a  step  forward  and  saluted.  I  recognized 
him  at  once.  It  was  the  commissionnaire  at  the  Cafe 
Universel. 

"It  is  quite  right,"  I  told  the  porter.  "You  had  better 
come  up  to  my  rooms,"  I  added,  turning  to  Fritz. 

I  led  the  way  to  the  lift  and  on  to  my  sitting-room.  There 
I  turned  up  the  electric  lights  and  threw  myself  into  an 
easy-chair. 

"Well,  Fritz,"  said  I,  "I  hope  that  you  have  brought  me 
some  news." 

"I  have  lost  my  job,  sir,"  the  man  answered,  a  little 
sullenly. 

"How  much  was  it  worth  to  you  ?"  I  asked. 

"It  was  worth  nearly  two  pounds  a  week  with  tips,"  he 
declared,  speaking  with  a  strong  foreign  accent. 

"Then  I  take  you  into  my  service  at  two  pounds  ten  a 
week  from  to-night,"  I  said.  "The  engagement  will  not 
be  a  long  one,  but  you  may  find  it  lucrative." 

The  man  fingered  his  hat  and  looked  at  me  stolidly. 

"I  am  not  a  valet,  sir,"  he  replied. 


ig6  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"If  you  were  I  should  not  employ  you,"  I  answered. 
"You  can  make  yourself  very  useful  to  me  in  another 
direction,  if  you  care  to." 

"I  am  very  willing,  sir,"  the  man  declared,  —  "very 
willing  indeed.  I  have  a  wife  and  children,  and  I  cannot 
afford  to  be  out  of  employment." 

"Come,  then,"  I  said.  "The  long  and  short  of  it  is  this. 
I  want  to  discover  the  whereabouts  of  the  man  who  was 
with  the  Chinaman  at  your  restaurant  last  evening." 

The  man  looked  at  me  with  something  like  surprise  in 
his  face. 

"You  do  not  know  that?"  he  said. 

"I  do  not,"  I  admitted.  "Your  business  will  be  to  find 
out." 

"And  what  do  I  get,"  the  man  asked,  "if  I  do  discover 
the  staying  place  of  that  gentleman  ? " 

"A  ten-pound  note,"  I  answered,  "down  on  the  nail." 

A  slow  smile  suffused  Fritz's  face. 

"I  will  tell  you  now,"  he  said.  "You  have  the  ten 
pounds,  so?" 

"  I  have  it  ready,"  I  answered,  rising  to  my  feet.  "  Come 
on,  Fritz,  you  are  a  brave  fellow,  and  I  promise  you  it 
shall  not  end  at  ten  pounds." 

"You  are  serious?"  Fritz  persisted.  "This  is  not  a 
joke?" 

"Not  in  the  least,"  I  assured  him.  "Why  should  you 
think  so?" 

The  smile  on  the  man's  face  broadened. 

"Because,"  he  said,  "that  gentleman  —  he  is  staying 
here,  in  this  very  hotel." 

For  a  moment  I  was  silent.  The  thing  seemed  im- 
possible ! 

"How  on  earth  do  you  know  that,  Fritz  ?"  I  asked. 


NEARLY  197 

"I  will  tell  you,"  Fritz  answered.  "There  was  a  night, 
not  long  ago,  when  he  did  come  to  the  restaurant  with  the 
Chinese  gentleman.  They  talked  for  a  long  time,  and  then 
I  was  sent  for  into  the  private  room  where  they  were  taking 
dinner.  The  gentleman  he  wrote  a  note  and  he  gave  it  to 
me.  He  said,  'You  will  take  a  hansom  cab  and  you  will 
drive  to  Claridge's  Hotel.  You  will  give  this  to  the  cashier, 
and  he  will  hand  you  a  small  parcel  which  you  will  bring 
here.'  I  told  him  that  I  could  not  leave  my  post,  but  he 
had  already  seen  the  proprietor.  So  I  came  to  this  very 
hotel  with  that  note,  and  I  did  take  back  to  the  restaurant 
a  small  parcel  wrapped  in  brown  paper." 

"Fritz,"  I  said,  "sit  down  in  that  easy-chair  and  help 
yourself  to  whiskey  and  soda.  I  am  sorry  that  I  have  not 
beer,  but  you  must  do  the  best  you  can  with  our  own 
national  drink.  Take  a  cigar,  too.  Make  yourself  quite 
comfortable.  I  am  going  downstairs  to  the  reception 
office.  If  I  find  that  what  you  have  told  me  is  true,  there 
will  be  two  five-pound  notes  in  my  hand  for  you  when  I 
come  back." 

"So!"  Fritz  declared,  accepting  my  hospitality  writh 
calm  satisfaction. 

I  descended  into  the  hall  of  the  hotel  and  made  my  way 
to  the  reception  office.  The  one  clerk  on  duty  was  reading 
a  novel,  which  he  promptly  laid  aside  at  my  approach.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  my  task,  perhaps,  might  not  prove  so 
easy,  as  Delora  would  scarcely  be  staying  here  under  his 
own  name. 

"I  wanted  to  ask  you,"  I  said,  "if  you  have  a  gentleman 
here  named  Delora." 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"There  is  no  one  of  that  name  in  the  hotel,  sir,"  he 
answered. 


ig8  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  scarcely  expected  that  there  would  be,"  I  remarked. 
"The  fact  is,  the  gentleman  whom  I  want  to  find,  and 
whom  I  know  is  or  was  staying  here,  is  using  another  name 
which  I  have  not  heard.  You  know  who  I  am  ?  " 

"Certainly,  Captain  Rotherby!"  the  man  replied. 
"You  are  Lord  Welmington's  brother." 

"You  will  understand,  then,"  I  said,  "that  if  I  ask 
questions  which  seem  to  you  impertinent,  I  do  so  be- 
cause the  matter  is  important,  and  not  from  any  idle 
curiosity." 

"Quite  so,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "I  shall  be  pleased 
to  tell  you  anything  I  can." 

"This  gentleman  of  whom  I  am  in  search,  then,"  I 
answered,  "he  would  have  arrived  probably  last  Wednes- 
day evening  from  the  Continent.  I  do  not  know  what 
name  he  would  give,  bat  it  would  probably  not  be  the 
name  of  Delora.  He  is  rather  tall,  pale,  thin,  and  of 
distinctly  foreign  appearance.  He  has  black  eyes,  black 
imperial,  and  looks  like  a  South  American,  which,  by  the 
bye,  I  think  he  is.  Does  that  description  help  you  to 
recognize  him?" 

"I  think  so,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "Do  you  happen 
to  know  whether,  by  any  chance,  he  would  be  a  friend  of 
the  Chinese  ambassador?" 

"I  should  think  it  very  likely,"  I  answered.  "He  is 
staying  here,  then?" 

"He  was  staying  here  until  a  few  hours  ago,  sir,"  the 
man  answered.  "He  came  in  about  ten  o'clock  and  went 
at  once  to  his  rooms,  sent  for  his  bill,  and  left  the  hotel  in 
a  great  hurry.  I  remember  the  circumstance  particularly, 
because  he  had  said  nothing  about  his  going,  and  from 
the  manner  of  his  return  and  his  hasty  departure  it  is  quite 
clear  that  he  had  not  expected  to  leave  so  soon  himself." 


NEARLY  199 

I  was  a  little  staggered.  It  seemed  hard  luck  to  have 
so  nearly  succeeded  in  my  search,  only  to  have  failed  at 
the  last  moment.  It  was  maddening,  too,  to  think  that 
for  all  these  hours  I  had  been  in  the  same  hotel  as  the 
man  whom  I  so  greatly  desired  to  find  ! 

"Tell  me,  did  he  leave  any  address?"  I  asked. 

"None  whatever,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "Our 
junior  clerk  here  asked  him  where  he  would  wish  letters 
to  be  forwarded,  and  he  replied  that  there  would  not  be 
any.  I  think  he  said  that  he  was  leaving  for  abroad  almost 
at  once,  but  would  call  before  he  sailed  in  case  there  were 
any  letters  or  messages  for  him." 

"Tell  me  under  what  name  he  stayed  herep"  I  asked. 

"Mr.  Vanderpoel,"  the  man  told  me. 

"He  was  quite  alone,  I  suppose?"  I  asked. 

"Absolutely,"  the  man  answered.  "He  had  a  few 
callers  at  different  times,  but  he  spent  most  of  his  time 
in  his  rooms.  If  you  are  particularly  anxious  to  discover 
his  whereabouts,"  the  clerk  continued,  "the  night  porter 
who  would  have  started  him  off  is  still  on  duty." 

"I  should  like  very  much  to  speak  to  him,"  I  said. 

The  clerk  touched  a  bell,  and  the  porter  came  in  from 
outside. 

-^yf  on  remember  Mr.  Vanderpoel  leaving  this  evening  ?  " 
the  clerk  asked. 

"Certainly,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "He  went  at 
about  eleven  o'clock." 

"Did  he  go  in  a  cab  ?"  the  clerk  asked. 

"In  a  four-wheeler,  sir,"  the  porter  answered. 

"Do  you  remember  what  address  he  gave?" 

The  porter  looked  dubious  for  a  moment. 

"I  don't  absolutely  remember,  sir,"  he  said,  "bat  I 
know  that  it  was  one  of  the  big  railway  stations." 


200  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

The  clerk  turned  to  me. 

"Is  there  anything  else  you  would  like  to  ask?'*  he 
inquired. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"No,  thanks!"  I  answered.  "I  am  afraid  there  is 
nothing  more  to  be  learned." 

The  porter  went  back  to  his  duties,  and  I  bade  the 
clerk  good  night.  Up  in  my  room  Fritz  was  waiting 
anxiously. 

"You  were  right  and  wrong,"  I  announced.  "Mr. 
Delora  has  been  staying  here  and  left  to-night." 

"He  has  gone!"  Fritz  exclaimed. 

"He  left  at  eleven  o'clock,"  I  answered.  "He  saw  me, 
and  I  suppose  he  knew  that  I  was  looking  for  him.  Here  's 
half  your  money,  anyhow,"  I  continued,  giving  him  a 
five-pound  note.  "The  next  thing  to  do  is  to  find  out 
where  he  has  gone  to.  I  think  you  could  help  here,  Fritz." 

"What  must  I  do?"  the  man  asked. 

"First  of  all,"  I  said,  "go  to  the  big  railway  hotels  and. 
try  and  find  out  from  one  of  the  porters  —  you  Germans 
all  stick  together  —  whether  any  one  arrived  in  a  four- 
wheel  cab  at  between  eleven  and  twelve  this  evening, 
whose  description  coincides  with  that  of  Mr.  Delora.  I 
reckon  that  will  take  you  most  of  to-morrow.  When  you 
have  finished  come  to  me  at  the  Milan  Court,  and  let  me 
know  how  you  have  got  on." 

"So!"  the  man  remarked,  rising  from  his  seat.  "To- 
morrow morning  I  will  do  that.  They  will  tell  me,  these 
fellows.  I  know  many  of  them." 

"  Good  night,  Fritz,  then  ! "  I  said.    "  Good  luck ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

WAR 

EARLY  on  the  following  morning  I  moved  back  to  my 
rooms  in  the  Milan  Court.  Curiously  enough  I  entered 
the  building  with  a  sense  of  depression  for  which  I  could 
not  account.  I  went  first  to  my  own  rooms  and  glanced 
at  my  letters.  There  was  nothing  there  of  importance. 
In  other  words,  there  was  nothing  from  Felicia.  I  de- 
scended to  the  fifth  floor  and  knocked  at  the  door  of  her 
room.  As  I  stood  there  wraiting  I  was  absolutely  certain 
that  somehow  or  other  a  change  had  occurred  in  the 
situation,  that  the  freeness  of  my  intercourse  with  Felicia 
was  about  to  be  interfered  with.  I  was  not  in  the  least 
surprised  when  the  door  was  at  last  cautiously  opened, 
and  a  woman  who  was  a  perfect  stranger  to  me  stood 
on  the  threshold,  with  the  handle  of  the  door  still  in  her 
hand. 

"I  should  like  to  see  Miss  Delora,"  I  said.  "My  name 
is  Captain  Rotherby." 

The  woman  shook  her  head.  She  was  apparently 
French,  and  of  the  middle-class.  She  was  dressed  in 
black,  her  eyes  and  eyebrows  were  black,  she  had  even 
the  shadow  of  a  moustache  upon  her  upper  lip.  To  me 
her  appearance  was  singularly  forbidding. 

"Miss  Delora  cannot  see  you,"  she  answered,  with  a 
strong  foreign  accent. 

"Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  inquire  if  that  is  so  ?"  I  an- 
swered. "I  have  an  appointment  with  Miss  Delora  for 
this  morning,  and  a  motor-car  waiting  to  take  her  out." 


202  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Miss  Delora  cannot  receive  you,"  answered  the  woman, 
almost  as  though  she  had  not  heard,  and  closed  the  door 
in  my  face. 

There  was  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  go  down  and  in- 
terview my  friend  the  hall-porter.  I  commenced  my 
inquiries  with  the  usual  question. 

"Any  news  of  Mr.  Delora,  Ashley?"  I  asked. 

"None  at  all,  sir,"  the  man  replied.  "A  companion 
has  arrived  for  Miss  Delora." 

"So  I  have  discovered  for  myself,"  I  answered.  "Do 
you  know  anything  about  her,  Ashley?" 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"She  arrived  here  yesterday  afternoon,"  he  said,  "with 
a  trunk.  She  went  straight  up  to  Miss  Delora's  room, 
and  I  have  not  seen  them  apart  since." 

"Do  they  come  down  to  the  cafe  ?"  I  asked. 

"So  far,  sir,"  the  man  answered,  "they  have  had  every- 
thing served  in  their  sitting-room." 

I  went  back  to  my  room  and  rang  up  number  157.  The 
voice  which  answered  me  was  the  voice  of  the  woman  who 
had  denied  me  admission  to  the  room. 

"I  wish  to  speak  to  Miss  Delora,"  I  said. 

"Miss  Delora  is  engaged,"  was  the  abrupt  answer. 

"Nonsense!"  I  answered.  "I  insist  upon  speaking 
to  her.  Tell  her  that  it  is  Captain  Rotherby,  and  she  will 
come  to  the  telephone." 

There  was  a  little  whirr,  but  no  answer.  The  person 
at  the  other  end  had  rung  off.  By  this  time  I  wras  getting 
angry.  In  five  minutes  time  I  rang  up  again.  The  same 
voice  answered  me. 

"Look  here,"  I  said,  "if  you  do  not  let  me  speak  to 
Miss  Delora,  I  shall  ring  up  every  five  minutes  during 
the  day!" 


WAR  203 

"Monsieur  can  do  as  he  pleases,"  was  the  answer. 
"I  shall  lay  the  receiver  upon  the  table.  It  will  not  be 
possible  to  get  connected." 

"Do,  if  you  like,"  I  answered,  "but  how  about  when 
Mr.  Delora  rings  you  up  ?" 

The  woman  muttered  something  which  I  did  not  catch. 
A  moment  afterwards,  however,  her  voice  grew  clear. 

"That  is  not  your  business,"  she  said  sharply. 

I  tried  to  continue  the  conversation,  but  in  vain.  Noth- 
ing came  from  the  other  end  but  silence.  I  busied  myself 
for  a  time  glancing  at  a  few  unimportant  letters,  and 
afterwards  descended  to  lunch  in  the  cafe.  I  fancied, 
for  a  moment,  that  Louis'  self-possession  was  less  perfect 
than  usual.  He  certainly  showed  some  surprise  when  he 
saw  me,  and  he  came  to  my  table  with  a  little  less  alacrity. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "I  shall  order  my  lunch  from  some 
one  else,  not  from  you." 

"Monsieur  has  lost  confidence?"  he  asked. 

"Not  in  your  judgment,  Louis,"  I  answered. 

Louis  looked  me  straight  in  the  eyes.  It  was  not  a 
practice  which  he  often  indulged  in. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "you  should  be  on  our 
side.  It  would  not  be  necessary  then  to  interfere  with 
any  of  your  plans." 

He  looked  at  me  meaningly,  and  I  understood. 

"It  is  you,  Louis,  I  presume,  whom  I  have  to  thank 
for  the  lady  upstairs?"  I  remarked. 

Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Why  do  you  seek  the  man  Delora  ?"  he  asked.  ""What 
concern  is  it  of  yours?  If  you  persist,  the  consequences 
are  inevitable." 

"If  you  will  take  the  trouble  to  convince  me,  Louis, —  " 
I  said. 


204  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Louis  interrupted  me;  it  was  unlike  him.  His  little 
gesture  showed  that  he  was  very  nearly  angry. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  "sometimes  you  fail  to  realize 
that  at  a  word  from  us  the  hand  of  the  gendarme  is  upon 
your  shoulder.  We  would  make  use  of  your  aid  gladly, 
but  it  must  be  on  our  terms  —  not  yours." 

"State  them,  Louis,"  I  said. 

"We  will  tell  you  the  truth,"  Louis  answered  slowly. 
"You  shall  understand  the  whole  business.  You  shall 
understand  why  Delora  is  forced  to  lie  hidden  here  in 
London,  what  it  is  that  he  is  aiming  at.  When  you  know 
everything,  you  can  be  an  ally  if  you  will.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  you  disapprove,  you  swear  upon  your  honor  as 
a  gentleman  —  an  English  gentleman  —  that  no  word 
of  the  knowledge  which  you  have  gained  shall  pass  your 
lips!" 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "I  will  have  my  lunch  and  think  about 
this." 

Louis  departed  with  his  customary  smile  and  bow.  I 
ordered  something  cold  from  the  sideboard  within  sight, 
and  a  bottle  of  wine  which  was  opened  before  me.  There 
scarcely  remained  any  doubt  in  my  mind  now  but  that 
some  part  of  Delora's  business,  at  any  rate,  in  this  coun- 
try, was  criminal.  Louis'  manner,  his  emphatic  stipula- 
tion, made  it  a  matter  of  certainty.  Again  I  found  myself 
confronted  by  the  torturing  thought  that  if  this  were  so 
Felicia  could  scarcely  be  altogether  innocent.  Once  when 
Louis  passed  me  I  stopped  him. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "let  me  ask  you  this.  Presuming 
things  remain  as  they  are,  and  I  act  independently,  do 
you  intend  to  prevent  my  seeing  Miss  Delora  ?  " 

"It  is  nothing  to  do  with  me,"  Louis  lied.  "It  is  the 
wish  of  her  uncle." 


WAR  205 

"Thank  you  !"  I  answered.    "I  wanted  to  know." 

I  finished  my  luncheon.  Louis  saw  me  preparing  to 
depart  and  came  up  to  me.  My  table  was  set  in  a  some- 
what obscure  corner,  and  we  were  practically  alone. 

"I  will  ask  you  a  question,  Louis,"  I  said.  "There  is 
no  reason  why  you  should  not  answer  it.  There  are  laws 
from  a  legal  point  of  view,  and  laws  from  a  moral  point. 
From  the  former,  I  realize  that  I  am,  at  this  moment,  a 
criminal  —  possibly,  as  you  say,  in  your  power.  Let  that 
pass.  What  I  want  you  to  tell  me  is  this,  —  the  under- 
taking in  which  Mr.  Delora  is  now  engaged,  is  it  from 
a  legal  point  of  view  a  criminal  one,  or  is  it  merely  a 
matter  needing  secrecy  from  other  reasons?" 

Louis  stood  thoughtfully  silent  for  some  few  moments. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  will  not  hide  the  truth 
from  you.  According  to  the  law  in  this  country  Mr. 
Delora  is  engaged  in  a  conspiracy." 

"Political?"  I  asked. 

"No!"  Louis  answered.  "A  conspiracy  which  is  to 
make  him  and  all  others  who  are  concerned  in  it  wealthy 
for  life." 

"But  the  Deloras  are  already  rich,"  I  remarked. 

"Our  friend,"  Louis  said,  "has  speculated.  He  has 
lost  large  sums.  Besides,  he  loves  adventures.  \Vhat 
shall  you  answer,  Captain  Rotherby?" 

"It  is  war,  Louis,"  I  said.  "You  should  know  that. 
If  I  have  to  pay  the  penalty  for  taking  the  law  into  my 
hands  over  the  man  Tapilow,  I  am  ready  to  answer  at 
any  time.  As  for  you  and  Delora,  and  the  others  of  you, 
whoever  they  may  be,  it  will  be  war  with  you  also,  if  you 
will.  I  intend,  for  the  sake  of  the  little  girl  upstairs, 
to  solve  all  this  mystery,  to  take  her  away  from  it  if  I 
can." 


206  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Louis'  eyes  had  narrowed.  The  look  in  his  face  was 
almost  enough  to  make  one  afraid. 

"It  is  a  pity,"  he  said.  "Even  if  you  had  chosen  to 
remain  neutral — " 

"I  should  not  do  that  unless  I  could  see  as  much  of 
Miss  Delora  as  I  chose,"  I  interrupted. 

"If  that  were  arranged,"  Louis  said  slowly,  —  "mind, 
I  make  no  promises,  —  but  I  say  if  that  were  arranged, 
would  it  be  understood  between  us  that  you  stopped  your 
search  for  Mr.  Delora,  and  abandoned  all  your  inquiries  ?" 

"No,  Louis,"  I  answered,  "unless  I  were  convinced 
that  Miss  Delora  herself  was  implicated  in  these  things. 
Then  you  could  all  go  to  the  devil  for  anything  I  cared  !" 

"Your  interest,"  Louis  murmured,  "is  in  the  young 
lady,  then  ?" 

"Absolutely  and  entirely,"  I  answered.  "Notwith- 
standing what  you  have  told  me,  and  what  I  have  sur- 
mised, the  fact  that  you  stood  by  me  in  Paris  would  be 
sufficient  to  make  me  shrug  my  shoulders  and  pass  on. 
I  am  no  policeman,  and  I  would  leave  the  work  of  ex- 
posing Delora  to  those  whose  business  it  is.  But  you  see 
I  have  an  idea  of  my  own,  Louis.  I  believe  that  Miss 
Delora  is  innocent  of  any  knowledge  of  wrong-doing. 
That  I  remain  here  is  for  her  sake.  If  I  try  to  discover 
what  is  going  on,  it  is  also  for  her  sake  !" 

"Monsieur  has  sentiment,"  Louis  remarked,  showing 
his  teeth. 

"Too  much  by  far,  Louis,"  I  answered.  "Never 
mind,  we  all  have  our  weak  spots.  Some  day  or  other 
somebody  may  even  put  their  finger  upon  yours,  Louis." 

He  smiled. 

"Why  not,  monsieur?"  he  said- 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

CHECK 

IN  my  rooms  a  surprise  awaited  me.  Felicia  was  there, 
walking  nervously  up  and  down  my  little  sitting-room. 
She  stopped  short  as  I  entered  and  came  swiftly  towards 
me.  In  the  joy  of  seeing  her  so  unexpectedly  I  would  have 
taken  her  into  my  arms,  but  she  shrank  back. 

"Felicia!"  I  exclaimed.    " How  did  you  come  here ?" 

"Madame  Miiller  went  down  for  lunch,"  Felicia  an- 
swered. "I  said  that  I  had  a  headache,  and  stole  up  here 
on  the  chance  of  seeing  you." 

"They  are  making  a  prisoner  of  you  !"   I  exclaimed. 

"It  is  your  fault,"  she  answered. 

I  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  Her  face  was  stained  with 
tears.  Her  voice  shook  with  nervousness. 

"You  have  been  making  secret  inquiries  about  my 
uncle,"  she  said.  "You  have  been  seen  talking  to  those 
who  wish  him  ill." 

"How  do  you  know  this,  Felicia?"   I  asked  calmly. 

"Oh,  I  know!"   she  answered.     "They  have  told  me." 

"Who  ?"   I  asked.    "Who  has  told  you  ?" 

"Never  mind,"  she  answered,  wringing  her  hands.  "I 
know.  It  is  enough.  Capitaine  Rotherby,  I  have  come  to 
ask  you  something." 

"Please  go  on,"  I  said. 

"I  want  you  to  go  away.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  interest 
yourself  any  more  in  me  or  in  any  of  us." 


208  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Do  you  mean  that,  Felicia?"  I  asked. 

"I  mean  it,"  she  answered.  "My  uncle  has  a  great 
mission  to  carry  out  here.  You  are  making  it  more  diffi- 
cult for  him." 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "I  do  not  trust  your  uncle.  I  do  not 
believe  in  his  great  mission.  I  think  that  you  yourself 
are  deceived." 

She  held  her  head  up.    Her  eyes  flashed  angrily. 

"As  to  that,"  she  said,  "I  am  the  best  judge.  If  my 
uncle  is  an  adventurer,  I  am  his  niece.  I  am  one  with  him. 
Please  understand  that.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are 
working  against  him,  thinking  that  you  are  helping  me. 
That  is  a  mistake." 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "give  me  a  little  more  of  your  confi- 
dence, and  the  rest  will  be  easy." 

"What  is  it  that  you  wish  to  know  ?"  she  asked. 

"For  one  thing,"  I  answered,  "tell  me  when  your  uncle 
left  South  America  and  when  he  arrived  in  Paris  ?" 

"He  had  been  in  Paris  ten  days  when  you  saw  us  first," 
she  said,  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 

"And  are  you  sure  that  he  came  to  you  from  South 
America?"  I  demanded. 

"Certainly!"  she  answered. 

"To  me,"  I  said  slowly,  "he  seems  to  have  the  manners 
of  a  Parisian.  Two  months  ago  I  lunched  at  Henry's 
with  some  old  friends.  Can  you  tell  me,  Felicia,  that  he 
was  not  in  Paris  then  ? " 

"Of  course  not !"   she  answered,  shivering  a  little. 

"Then  he  has  a  wonderful  double,"  I  declared. 

"What  is  this  that  is  in  your  mind  about  him?"  she 
asked. 

"I  believe,"  I  answered,  "that  he  is  personating  some 
one,  or  rather  I  have  believed  it.  I  believe  that  he  is  per- 


CHECK  209 

sonating  some  one  else,  and  is  afraid  of  being  recognized 
by  those  who  know." 

"\Yill  it  satisfy  you,"  she  said  slowly,  "if  I  tell  you, 
upon  my  honor,  Capitaine  Rotherby,  that  he  is  indeed  my 
ancle?" 

"I  should  believe  you,  Felicia,"  I  answered.  "I  should 
then  feel  disposed  to  give  the  whole  affair  up  as  insoluble." 

"That  is  just  what  I  want  you  to  do,"  she  said.  "Now, 
listen.  I  tell  you  this  upon  my  honor.  He  is  my  uncle, 
and  his  name  is  truly  Delora!" 

"Then  why  does  he  leave  you  here  alone  and  skulk 
about  from  hiding-place  to  hiding-place  like  a  criminal?" 
I  asked. 

"It  is  not  your  business  to  ask  those  questions,"  she 
answered.  "I  have  told  you  the  truth.  Will  you  do  as  I 
ask  or  not  ?" 

I  hesitated  for  a  moment.  She  was  driving  me  back  into 
a  corner !  , 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "I  must  do  as  you  ask  me.  If  you 
tell  me  to  go  away,  I  will  go  away ;  but  do  you  think  it  is 
quite  kind  to  leave  me  so  mystified  ?  For  instance,"  I 
added  slowly,  "on  the  night  when  that  beast  Louis  planned 
to  knock  that  young  Brazilian  on  the  head,  and  leave  me 
to  bear  the  brunt  of  it;  he  was  up  here  talking  to  you, 
alone,  as  though  you  were  equals." 

"It  is  my  uncle  who  makes  use  of  Louis,"  she  said. 

"I'm  hanged  if  I  can  see  how  he  can  make  use  of  a 
fellow  like  that  if  his  business  is  an  honest  one,"  I  answered. 

"It  is  not  for  you  to  understand,"  she  answered.  "You 
are  not  a  policeman.  You  are  not  concerned  in  these 
things." 

"I  am  concerned  in  you  !"  I  answered  passionately. 
*'  Felicia,  you  drive  me  almost  wild  when  you  talk  like  this. 


210  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

You  know  very  well  that  it  is  not  curiosity  which  has  made 
me  set  my  teeth,  and  swear  that  I  will  discover  the  truth 
of  these  things.  It  is  because  I  see  you  implicated  in 
them,  because  I  believe  in  you,  Felicia,  because  I  love 
you!" 

She  was  in  my  arms  for  one  long,  delicious  moment. 
Then  she  tore  herself  away. 

"Yon  mean  it,  Austen?"   she  whispered. 

"I  mean  it!"  I  answered  solemnly.  "Felicia,  I  think 
you  know  that  I  mean  it !" 

"Then  you  must  be  patient,"  she  said,  "for  just  a  little 
time.  You  must  wait  until  my  uncle  has  finished  his  busi- 
ness. It  will  take  a  very  short  time  now.  Then  you  may 
come  and  call  again,  and  remind  us  of  your  brother. 
You  will  understand  everything  then,  and  I  believe  that 
you  will  be  still  willing  to  ask  us, down  to  your  country 
home." 

"And  if  I  am,  Felicia?"  I  asked. 

"We  shall  come,"  she  murmured.  "You  know  that. 
Good-bye,  Austen  !  I  must  fly.  If  Madame  Miiller  finds 
that  I  have  left  the  room  I  shall  be  a  prisoner  for  a  week." 

I  opened  the  door.  Even  then  I  would  have  kept  her, 
if  only  for  a  moment;  but  just  as  I  bent  down  we  heard 
the  sound  of  footsteps  outside,  and  she  hurried  away.  I 
sat  down  and  lit  a  cigarette.  So  it  was  over,  then,  my 
little  attempt  at  espionage !  My  word  was  pledged.  I 
could  do  no  more. 

I  walked  round  to  Claridge's  later  in  the  evening  and 
saw  my  brother. 

"Ralph,"  I  said,  "if  your  offer  of  the  shooting  is  still 
good,  I  think  I  will  take  a  few  men  down  to  Feltham." 

"Do,  Austen,"  he  answered.    "Old  Heggs  will  be  ever 


CHECK  211 

so  pleased.  It  seems  a  shame  not  to  have  a  gun  upon  the 
place.  I  shall  come  down  myself  later  on.  What  about 
those  people,  the  Deloras?" 

"The  uncle  is  away,"  I  answered,  "and  the  girl  cannot 
very  well  come  by  herself.  Perhaps  we  may  see  something 
of  them  later  on." 

Ralph  looked  at  me  a  little  curiously,  but  he  made  no 
remark. 

"You  won't  be  lonely  up  here  alone?"   I  asked. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I  have  plenty  to  do,"  he  answered.  "I  shall  probably 
be  down  myself  before  the  end  of  the  month.  Whom 
shall  you  ask  ? " 

I  made  a  list  of  a  few  of  the  men  whom  I  knew,  and 
who  I  believed  were  still  in  town,  but  when  I  sat  down  to 
write  to  them  I  felt  curiously  reluctant  to  commit  myself  to 
staying  at  Feltham.  Even  if  I  were  not  to  interfere,  even 
if  I  were  to  stand  aside  while  the  game  wTas  being  played, 
I  could  not  believe  that  the  scheming  of  Louis  and  the 
acquiescence  of  Felicia  went  for  the  same  thing,  and  I  had 
an  uncomfortable  but  a  very  persistent  conviction  to  the 
effect  that  she  was  being  deceived.  Even-thing  from  her 
point  of  view  seemed  reasonable  enough.  What  she  had 
told  me,  even,  seemed  almost  to  preclude  the  fear  of  any 
wrong-doing.  Yet  I  could  not  escape  from  the  conviction  of 
it.  Some  way  or  other  there  was  trouble  brewing,  either 
between  Delora  and  Louis,  or  Delora  and  the  arbiters  of 
right  and  wrong.  In  the  end  I  wrote  to  no  one.  I  deter- 
mined to  go  down  alone,  to  shoot  zealously  from  early  in 
the  morning  till  late  at  night,  but  to  have  no  house-party  at 
Feltham,  —  to  invite  a  few  of  the  neighbors,  and  to  be 
free  myself  to  depart  for  London  any  time,  at  a  moment's 
notice.  It  would  come !  somehow  or  other  I  felt  sure  of 


212  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

it.  I  should  receive  a  summons  from  her,  and  I  must  be 
prepared  at  any  moment  to  come  to  her  aid. 

I  went  into  the  club  after  I  had  left  Claridge's,  and 
stayed  playing  bridge  till  unusually  late.  It  was  early  in 
the  morning  when  I  reached  the  Milan,  and  the  hotel  had 
that  dimly  lit,  somewhat  sepulchral  appearance  which 
seems  to  possess  a  large  building  at  that  hour  in  the  morn- 
ing. As  I  stood  for  a  moment  inside  the  main  doors,  four 
men  stepped  out  of  the  lift  on  my  right,  carrying  a  long 
wooden  chest.  They  slunk  away  into  the  shadows  on 
tiptoe.  I  watched  them  curiously. 

"What  is  that?"  I  asked  the  reception  clerk  who  was 
on  duty. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"It  was  a  man  who  died  here  the  day  before  yesterday," 
he  whispered  in  my  ear. 

"Died  here?"  I  repeated.  "Why  are  they  taking  his 
coffin  down  at  such  an  hour?" 

"It  is  always  done,"  the  man  assured  me.  "In  hotels 
such  as  this,  where  all  is  life  and  gayety,  our  clients  do  not 
care  to  be  reminded  of  such  an  ugly  thing  as  death.  Half 
the  people  on  that  floor  wrould  have  left  if  they  had  known 
that  the  dead  body  of  a  man  has  been  lying  there.  We 
keep  these  things  very  secret.  The  coffin  has  been  taken 
to  the  undertaker's.  The  funeral  will  be  from  there." 

"Who  is  the  man?"  I  asked.    "Had  he  been  ill  long?" 

The  clerk  shook  his  head. 

"He  was  a  Frenchman,"  he  said;  "Bartot  was  his 
name.  He  had  an  apoplectic  stroke  in  the  cafe  one  day 
last  week,  and  since  then  complications  set  in." 

I  turned  away  with  a  little  shiver.  It  was  not  pleasant 
to  reflect  upon  —  this  man's  death  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

AN   UNSATISFACTORY   INTERVIEW 

BEFORE  I  was  up  the  iflext  morning  I  was  informed  that 
Fritz  was  waiting  outside  the  door  of  my  room.  I  had  him 
shown  in,  and  he  stood  respectfully  by  my  bedside. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  "I  have  once  more  discovered  Mr. 
Delora." 

"Fritz,"  I  answered,  "you  are  a  genius!  Tell  me 
where  he  is?" 

"He  is  at  a  small  private  hotel  in  Bloomsbury,"  Fritz 
declared.  "It  is  really  a  boarding-house,  frequented  by 
Australians  and  Colonials.  The  number  is  17,  and  the 
street  is  Montague  Street." 

I  sat  up  in  bed. 

"This  is  very  interesting,"  I  said. 

Fritz  coughed. 

"I  trusted  that  you  would  find  it  so,  sir,"  he  admitted. 

I  thought  for  several  moments.  Then  I  sprang  out  of 
bed. 

"Fritz,"  I  said,  "our  engagement  comes  to  an  end  this 
morning.  I  am  going  to  pay  you  for  two  months'  service." 

I  went  to  my  drawer  and  counted  out  some  notes,  which 
Fritz  pocketed  with  a  smile  of  contentment. 

"I  am  obliged  to  give  up  my  interest  in  this  affair,"  I 
said,  "so  I  cannot  find  any  more  work  for  you.  But  that 
money  will  enable  you  to  take  a  little  holiday,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  that  you  will  soon  succeed  in  obtaining  another 
situation." 


214  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Fritz  made  me  a  magnificent  bow. 

"I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you,  sir,"  he  announced.  "I 
shall  take  another  situation  at  once.  Holidays  —  they 
will  come  later  in  life.  At  my  age,  and  with  a  family,  one 
must  work.  But  your  generosity,  sir,"  he  wound  up, 
with  another  bow,  "I  shall  never  forget." 

I  dressed,  and  walked  to  the  address  which  Fritz  had 
given  me.  As  I  stood  on  the  doorstep,  with  the  bell  handle 
still  in  my  hand,  the  door  was  suddenly  opened.  It  was 
Delora  himself  who  appeared  !  He  shrank  away  from  me 
as  though  I  were  something  poisonous.  I  laid  my  hand 
on  his  shoulder,  firmly  determined  that  this  time  there 
should  be  no  escape. 

"Mr.  Delora,"  I  said,  "I  want  a  few  words  with  you. 
Can  I  have  them  now  ? " 

"I  am  busy!"  he  answered.    "At  any  other  time!" 

"No  other  time  will  do,"  I  answered.  "It  is  only  a  few 
words  I  need  say,  but  those  few  words  must  be  spoken." 

He  led  the  way  reluctantly  into  a  sitting-room.  There 
were  red  plush  chairs  set  at  regular  intervals  against  the 
wall,  and  a  table  in  the  middle  covered  by  papers  —  mostly 
out  of  date.  Delora  closed  the  door  and  turned  toward 
me  sternly. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "I  am  quite  aware  that 
there  are  certain  people  in  London  who  are  very  much 
interested  in  me  and  my  doings.  Their  interests  and 
mine  clash,  and  it  is  only  natural  that  they  should  plot 
against  me.  But  where  the  devil  you  come  in  I  cannot 
tell !  Tell  me  what  you  mean  by  playing  the  spy  upon  me  ? 
What  business  is  it  of  yours?" 

"You  misunderstand  the  situation,  sir,"  I  answered. 
"More  than  ten  days  ago  you  left  me  in  charge  of  your 
niece  at  Charing  Cross,  while  you  drove  on,  according  to 


AN    UNSATISFACTORY    INTERVIEW      215 

your  own  statement,  to  the  Milan  Hotel.  You  never  -went 
to  that  hotel.  You  never,  apparently,  meant  to.  You 
have  never  been  near  it  since.  You  have  left  your  niece 
in  the  centre  of  what  seems  to  be  a  very  nest  of  intrigue. 
I  have  the  right  to  ask  you  for  an  explanation  of  these 
things.  This  morning  I  have  a  special  right,  because  to- 
day I  have  j  promised  to  go  away  into  the  country,  and  to 
take  no  further  interest  in  your  doings." 

"Let  us  suppose,"  Delora  said  dryly,  "that  it  is  already 
to-morrow  morning." 

"No!"  I  answered.  "There  is  something  which  I 
mean  to  say  to  you.  You  need  not  be  alarmed.  The  few 
words  I  have  to  say  to  you  are  not  questions.  I  do  not 
want  to  understand  your  secrets, —  to  penetrate  the  mystery 
which  surrounds  you  and  your  doings.  I  will  not  ask  you 
a  single  question.  I  will  not  even  ask  you  why  you  left 
your  niece  in  such  a  fit  of  terror,  and  have  never  yet  dared 
to  show  your  face  at  the  Milan." 

"A  child  would  understand  these  things!"  Delora 
exclaimed.  "The  Milan  Hotel  is  one  of  the  most  public 
spots  in  London.  It  is  open  to  any  one  who  cares  to  cross 
the  threshold.  It  is  the  last  place  in  the  world  likely  to  be 
a  suitable  home  for  a  man  like  myself,  who  is  in  touch 
with  great  affairs." 

"Then  why  did  you  choose  to  go  there?"  I  asked. 

"It  was  not  my  choice  at  all,"  Delora  answered.  "Be- 
sides, it  was  not  until  I  arrived  in  London  that  I  under- 
stood exactly  the  nature  of  the  intrigues  against  me." 

"At  least,"  I  protested,  "you  should  never  have  brought 
your  niece  with  you.  Frankly,  your  concerns  don't  inter- 
est me  a  snap  of  the  fingers.  It  is  of  your  niece  only  that 
I  think.  You  have  no  right  to  leave  her  alone  in  such 
anxiety!" 


2i6  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Nor  can  I  see,  sir,"  Delora  answered,  "that  you  have 
any  better  right  to  reproach  me  with  it.  Still,  if  it  will 
shorten  this  discussion,  I  admit  that  if  I  had  known  how 
much  trouble  there  was  ahead  of  me  I  should  not  have 
brought  her.  I  simply  disliked  having  to  disappoint  her. 
It  was  a  long-standing  promise." 

"Let  that  go,"  I  answered.  "I  have  told  you  that  I 
have  handed  in  my  commission.  I  have  nothing  more 
to  do  with  you  or  your  schemes,  whatever  they  may  be. 
But  I  came  here  to  find  you  and  to  tell  you  this  one  thing. 
Felicia  says  that  you  are  her  uncle,  she  scouts  the 
idea  of  your  being  an  impostor,  she  speaks  of  you  as  ten- 
derly and  affectionately  as  a  girl  well  could.  That  is  all 
very  well.  Yet,  in  the  face  of  it,  I  am  here  to  impress  this 
upon  you.  I  love  your  niece,  Mr.  Delora,  —  some  day  or 
other  I  mean  to  make  her  my  wife,  —  and  I  will  not  have 
her  dragged  into  anything  which  is  either  disreputable  or 
against  the  law." 

"Has  my  niece  encouraged  you?"  Delora  asked 
calmly. 

"Not  in  the  least,"  I  answered.  "She  has  been  kind 
enough  to  give  me  to  understand  that  she  cares  a  little,  and 
there  the  matter  ends.  Nothing  more  could  be  said  be- 
tween us  in  this  state  of  uncertainty.  But  I  came  here 
for  this  one  purpose.  I  came  to  tell  you  that  if  by  any 
chance  Felicia  should  be  mistaken,  if  you  play  her  false 
in  any  way,  if  you  seek  to  embroil  her  in  your  schemes,  or 
to  do  anything  by  means  of  which  she  could  suffer,  I  shall 
first  of  all  shake  the  life  out  of  your  body,  and  then  I  shall 
go  to  Scotland  Yard  and  tell  them  how  much  I  know." 

"About  Mr.  Tapilow,  also?"  Delora  asked,  with  a 
sneer. 

"Do  you  think  I  am  afraid  to  take  the  punishment  for 


AN    UNSATISFACTORY    INTERVIEW     217 

my  own  follies?"  I  asked  indignantly.  "If  I  believed 
that,  I  would  go  and  give  myself  up  to-morrow.  Louis 
can  give  me  away  if  he  will,  or  you.  I  don't  care  a  snap 
of  the  fingers.  But  what  I  want  you  to  understand  is  this. 
Felicia  is,  I  presume,  your  niece.  I  should  have  been 
inclined  to  have  doubted  it,  but  I  cannot  disbelieve  her 
own  word.  I  think  myself  that  it  is  brutal  to  have  brought 
such  a  child  here  and  to  have  left  her  alone  — " 

"She  is  not  alone,"  Delora  interrupted  stiffly.  "She  has 
a  companion." 

"Who  arrived  yesterday,"  I  continued.  "She  has  spent 
some  very  bad  days  alone,  I  can  promise  you  that." 

"I  have  telephoned,"  Delora  said,  "twice  a  day  —  some- 
times oftener." 

I  laughed  ironically. 

"For  your  own  sake  or  hers,  I  wonder,"  I  said.  "Any- 
how, we  can  leave  that  alone.  What  I  want  you  to  under- 
stand is  this,  that  if  there  is  indeed  anything  illegal  or 
criminal  in  your  secret  doings  over  here,  you  must  take 
care  that  Felicia  is  safely  provided  for  if  things  should  go 
against  you.  She  is  not  to  be  left  there  to  be  the  butt  of  a 
great  criminal  action.  If  I  find  that  you  or  any  of  your 
friends  are  making  use  of  her  in  any  wray  whatever,  I 
swear  that  you  shall  suffer  for  it !" 

Delora  smiled  at  me  grimly.  He  seemed  in  his  few  dry 
words  to  have  revealed  something  of  his  stronger  and  less 
nervous  self. 

"You  terrify  me!"  he  said.  "Yet  I  think  that  we  must 
go  on  pretty  well  as  we  are,  even  if  my  niece  has  been  for- 
tunate enough  to  enlist  your  sympathies  on  her  behalf. 
Never  mind  who  I  am,  or  what  my  business  is  in  this 
country,  young  man.  It  is  not  your  affair.  You  should 
have  enough  to  think  about  yourself  in  this  country  of 


2i8  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

easy  extradition.  My  niece  can  look  after  herself.  So 
can  I.  We  do  not  need  your  aid,  or  welcome  your  inter- 
ference." 

"You  insinuate,"  I  declared  indignantly,  "that  your 
niece  is  one  of  your  helpers  !  I  do  not  believe  it !" 

"Helpers  in  what?"  he  asked,  with  upraised  eyebrows. 

"God  knows!"  I  exclaimed,  a  little  impatiently. 
"What  you  do,  or  what  you  try  to  do,  is  not  my  business. 
Felicia  is.  That  is  why  I  have  warned  you." 

"Am  I  to  have  the  honor,  then  ?  "  Delora  asked,  with  a 
curl  of  his  thin  lips,  — 

"You  are,"  I  interrupted,  "if  you  call  it  an  honor, 
although  to  tell  you  frankly,  as  things  are  at  present,  I  am 
not  inclined  to  go  about  begging  too  many  different  people's 
permission.  If  it  were  not  that  my  brother  Dicky  has 
just  written  over  from  Brazil  to  ask  me  to  be  civil  to  you 
and  your  niece,  you  would  n't  have  left  this  place  so 
easily." 

"Your  brother!"  Delora  said,  looking  at  me  uneasily. 
"Say  that  again." 

"Certainly!"  I  answered.  "  My  brother  Dicky,  who  is 
now  out  in  Brazil,  and  who  has  written  to  me  about  you. 
You  met  him  there,  of  course?"  I  added.  "He  stayed 
with  you  at  —  let  me  see,  what  is  the  name  of  your  plaqe  ?" 
I  asked  suddenly. 

"Menita,"  Delora  answered,  without  hesitation.  "Now 
you  mention  it,  of  course  I  remember  him !  If  he  has 
written  you  to  be  civil  to  us,  you  can  do  it  best  by  minding 
your  own  business.  In  a  fortnight's  time  I  shall  be  free 
to  entertain  or  to  be  entertained.  At  present  I  am  on  a 
secret  mission,  and  I  do  not  wish  my  work  to  be  interfered 
with." 

I  moved  toward  the  door. 


AN    UNSATISFACTORY    INTERVIEW     219 

"I  have  said  all  that  I  wish  to  say,"  I  remarked.  "If 
I  hear  nothing  from  you  I  shall  come  back  to  London  in 
fourteen  days."- 

"You  will  find  me  with  my  niece,"  Delora  said,  "and 
we  shall  be  happy  to  see  you." 

I  left  him  there,  feeling  somehow  or  other  that  I  had  not 
had  the  best  of  our  interview.  Yet  my  position  from  the 
first  was  hopeless.  There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but 
to  keep  my  word  to  Felicia  and  let  things  drift. 

I  drove  to  the  club  on  my  way  to  the  station,  where  I 
had  arranged  for  my  baggage  to  be  sent.  As  I  crossed 
Pall  Mall  I  met  Lamartine.  He  was  standing  on  the  pave- 
ment, on  the  point  of  entering  a  motor-car  on  which  was 
piled  some  luggage. 

"So  you,  too,  are  leaving  London,"  I  remarked,  stopping 
for  a  moment. 

He  looked  at  me  curiously. 

"I  am  going  to  Paris,"  he  said. 

"A  pleasure  trip?"  I  asked. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"Not  entirely,"  he  said.  "Only  this  morning  I  made 
a  somewhat  surprising  discovery." 

"Concerning  our  friend?"  I  asked. 

"Concerning  our  friend,"  Lamartine  echoed. 

He  seemed  dubious,  for  a  moment,  whether  to  take  me 
into  his  confidence. 

"You  have  not  found  Delora  yet?"  I  asked. 

"Not  yet,"  he  answered.     "And  you  ?" 

"I  have  seen  him,"  I  admitted. 

"Are  you  disposed  to  tell  me  where  ?"  Lamartine  asked 
softly. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  have  finished  with  the  affair,"  I  told  him.    "I  finish 


220  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

as  I  began,  —  absolutely  bewildered  !  I  know  nothing  and 
understand  nothing.  I  am  going  down  into  the  country 
to  shoot  pheasants." 

Lamartine  smiled. 

"I,"  he  remarked,  entering  the  car,  "am  going  after 
bigger  game ! " 


CHAPTER  XXX 

TO  NEWCASTLE    BY  ROAD 

I  FOUND  several  of  my  brother's  friends  staying  at  Feltham, 
who  were  also  well  known  to  me,  and  my  aunt,  who  was 
playing  hostess,  had  several  women  staying  with  her.  We 
spent  the  time  very  much  after  the  fashion  of  an  ordinary 
house-party  during  the  first  week  of  October.  We  shot 
until  four  o'clock,  came  home  and  played  bridge  until 
dinner-time,  bridge  or  billiards  after  dinner,  varied  by  a 
dance  one  night  and  some  amateur  theatricals.  On  the 
fifth  day  a  singular  thing  happened  to  me. 

The  whole  of  the  house-party  were  invited  to  shoot  with 
my  uncle,  Lord  Horington,  who  lived  about  forty  miles 
from  us.  We  left  in  two  motor-cars  soon  after  breakfast- 
time,  and  for  the  last  few  miles  of  the  way  we  struck  the 
great  north  road.  It  was  just  after  we  had  entered  it  that 
we  came  upon  a  huge  travelling  car,  covered  with  dust, 
and  with  portmanteaus  strapped  upon  the  roof,  hung  up 
by  the  side  of  the  road.  Our  chauffeur  slowed  down  to 
find  out  if  we  could  be  of  any  use,  and  as  the  reply  was 
scarcely  intelligible,  we  came  to  a  full  stop.  He  dismounted 
to  speak  to  the  other  chauffeur,  and  I  looked  curiously  at 
the  two  men  who  were  leaning  back  in  the  luxurious 
seats  inside  the  car.  For  a  moment  I  could  not  believe  my 
eyes  !  Then  I  opened  the  door  of  my  own  car  and  stepped 
quickly  into  the  road.  The  two  men  who  were  sitting  there, 
and  by  whom  I  was  as  yet  unobserved,  were  Delora  and 
the  Chinese  ambassador ! 


222  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

I  walked  at  once  up  to  the  window  of  their  car  and 
knocked  at  it.  Delora  leaned  forward  and  recognized  me 
at  once.  His  face,  for  a  moment,  seemed  dark  with  anger. 
He  let  down  the  sash. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  he  asked.  "Have  you  for- 
gotten our  bargain?" 

I  laughed  a  little  shortly. 

"My  dear  sir,"  I  said,  "it  is  not  I  who  have  come  to  see 
you,  but  you  to  see  me.  I  am  within  a  few  miles  of  my 
own  estate,  on  my  way  to  shoot  at  a  friend's." 

He  stared  at  me  for  a  moment  incredulously. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "that 
you  have  not  followed  us  from  London?" 

"Why  I  have  not  been  in  London,  or  near  it,  for  five 
days,"  I  told  him.  "I  slept  last  night  within  thirty  miles 
from  here,  and,  as  I  told  you  before,  am  on  my  way  to 
shoot  with  my  uncle  at  the  present  moment." 

"I  know  nothing  of  the  geography  of  your  country," 
Delora  said  shortly.  "What  you  say  may  be  correct.  His 
Excellency  and  I  are  having  a  few  days'  holiday." 

"May  I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  at  Felt- 
ham?"  I  inquired. 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  Delora  answered.  "If  we  had 
known  that  we  should  have  been  so  near,  we  might  have 
arranged  to  pay  you  a  visit.  As  it  is,  we  are  in  a  hurry  to 
get  on." 

"How  far  north  did  you  think  of  going?"  I  asked. 

"We  have  not  decided,"  Delora  answered.  "Remem- 
ber our  bargain,  and  ask  no  questions." 

"But  this  is  a  holiday  trip,"  I  reminded  him.  "Surely 
I  may  be  permitted  to  advise  you  about  the  picturesque 
spots  in  my  own  country  !" 

"You  can  tell  me,  at  any  rate,  what  it  is  tha*  has  hap- 


TO    NEWCASTLE    BY    ROAD          223 

pened  to  our  car,"  Delora  answered.  "Neither  His  Ex- 
cellency nor  I  know  anything  about  such  matters." 

I  walked  round  and  talked  to  the  two  chauffeurs.  The 
accident,  it  seemed,  was  a  trivial  one,  and  with  the  help 
of  a  special  spanner,  with  which  we  were  supplied,  was 
already  rectified.  I  returned  and  explained  matters  to 
Delora. 

"Have  you  come  far  this  morning?"   I  asked. 

"Not  far,"  Delora  answered.    "We  are  taking  it  easy." 

I  looked  at  his  tired  face,  at  the  car  thick  with  dust,  at 
the  Chinese  ambassador  already  nodding  in  his  corner, 
and  I  smiled  to  myself.  It  was  very  certain  to  me  that  they 
had  run  from  London  without  stopping,  and  I  felt  an  in- 
tense curiosity  as  to  their  destination.  However,  I  said 
no  more  to  them.  I  made  my  adieux  to  Delora,  and  bowed 
profoundly  to  the  Chinese  ambassador,  who  opened  his 
eyes  in  time  solemnly  to  return  my  farewell.  The  chauffeur 
was  already  in  his  place,  and  I  stopped  to  speak  to  him.  I 
saw  Delora  spring  forward  and  whistle  down  the  speaking- 
tube,  but  my  question  was  already  asked. 

"How  far  north  are  you  going?"  I  asked. 

"To  Newcastle,  sir,"    the  man  answered. 

He  turned  then  to  answer  the  whistle,  and  I  re-entered 
my  own  car.  We  started  first,  but  they  passed  us  in  a  few 
minutes  travelling  at  a  great  rate,  and  with  a  cloud  of  dust 
behind  them.  Delora  threw  an  evil  glance  at  me  from  his 
place.  For  once  I  had  stolen  a  march  upon  him.  They 
had  both  been  too  ignorant  of  their  route  to  keep  their 
final  destination  concealed  from  the  chauffeur,  and  they 
certainly  had  not  expected  to  meet  any  one  on  the  way 
with  whom  he  would  be  likely  to  talk  !  But  why  to  New- 
castle ?  I  asked  myself  that  question  so  often  during  the 
morning  that  my  shooting  became  purely  a  mechanical 


224  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

thing.  Newcastle,  —  the  Tyne,  coals,  and  shipbuilding ! 
I  could  think  of  nothing  else  in  connection  with  the 
place. 

Late  that  evening  I  sat  with  a  whiskey  and  soda  and 
final  cigar  in  the  smoking-room.  The  evening  papers 
had  just  arrived,  brought  by  motor-bicycle  from  Norwich. 
I  found  nothing  to  interest  me  in  them,  but,  glancing  down 
the  columns,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  some  mention 
of  Brazil.  I  looked  to  see  what  the  paragraph  might  be. 
It  concerned  some  new  battleships,  and  was  headed,  — 

LARGEST    BATTLESHIPS    IN    THE    WORLD! 

It  is  not  generally  known,  that  there  will  be  launched 
from  the  works  of  Messrs.  Halliday  &  Co.  on  the  Tyne,  within 
the  next  three  or  four  weeks,  two  of  the  most  powerful  battle- 
ships of  the  "  Dreadnought "  type,  which  have  yet  been  built. 

There  followed  some  specifications,  in  which  I  was  not 
particularly  interested,  an  account  of  their  armament,  and 
a  final  remark,  — 

One  is  tempted  to  ask  how  a  country,  in  the  financial  position 
of  Brazil,  can  possibly  reconcile  it  with  her  ideas  of  national 
economy,  to  spend  something  like  three  millions  in  battleships, 
which  there  does  not  seem  to  be  the  slightest  chance  of  her 
ever  being  called  upon  to  use ! 

Somehow  or  other  this  paragraph  fascinated  me.  I 
read  it  over  and  over  again.  I  could  see  no  connection  be- 
tween it  and  the  visit  of  Delora  to  Newcastle,  especially 
accompanied  as  he  was  by  the  Chinese  ambassador.  Yet 
the  more  I  thought  of  it,  the  more  I  felt  convinced  that  in 
some  way  the  two  were  connected.  I  put  down  the  paper 
at  last,  and  called  out  of  the  room  to  a  motoring  friend. 


TO    NEWCASTLE    BY    ROAD          225 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Newcastle  from  here,  Jacky  ? " 

Jacky  Dalton,  a  fair-haired  young  giant,  one  of  the 
keenest  sportsmen  whom  I  had  ever  met,  and  whose  mind 
and  soul  was  now  entirely  dominated  by  the  craze  for 
motoring,  told  me  with  only  a  few  moments'  hesitation. 

"'Between  two  hundred  and  two  hundred  and  twenty 
miles,  Austen,"  he  said,  "and  a  magnificent  road,  With 
my  new  Napier,  I  reckon  that  I  could  get  there  in  six 
hours,  or  less  at  night,  with  this  moon." 

I  walked  to  the  window.  Across  the  park  the  outline 
of  the  trees  and  even  the  bracken  stood  out  with  extraordi- 
nary distinctness  in  the  brilliant  moonlight.  There  was 
not  a  breath  of  air,  although  every  window  in  the  house 
was  open.  We  were  having  a  few  days  of  record  heat. 

"Jove,  what  a  gorgeous  run  it  would  be  to-night!" 
Dalton  said,  with  a  little  sigh,  looking  out  over  my  shoul- 
der. "Empty  roads,  as  light  as  day,  and  a  breeze  like 
midsummer  !  You  don't  want  to  go,  do  you,  Austen  ?" 

"Will  you  take  me?"  I  asked. 

"Like  a  shot!"  he  answered.  "I  only  wish  you  were 
in  earnest !" 

"But  I  am,"  I  declared.  "If  you  don't  mind  missing 
the  day's  shooting  to-morrow  I  'd  love  to  run  up  there. 
It 's  impossible  to  sleep  with  this  heat." 

"  It 's  a  great  idea,"  Dalton  declared  enthusiastically. 
"I  'd  love  a  day  off  from  shooting." 

I  turned  to  a  younger  cousin  of  mine,  who  had  just 
come  in  from  the  billiard-room. 

"Dick,"  I  said,  "will  you  run  things  to-morrow  if  I  go 
off  motoring  with  Dalton?" 

"Of  course  I  will,"  he  answered.  "It's  only  home 
shooting,  anyway.  I  'd  rather  like  a  day  off  because  of 
the  cricket  match  in  the  afternoon." 


226  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"  Jacky,  I  'm  your  man  !"  I  declared. 

"We  '11  have  Ferris  in  at  once,"  he  declared.  "Bet  you 
what  you  like  he  's  ready  to  start  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
I  always  have  her  kept  ready  tuned  right  up." 

I  rang  the  bell  and  sent  for  Jacky 's  chauffeur.  He  ap- 
peared after  a  few  minutes'  delay,  —  a  short,  hard-faced 
young  man,  who  before  Jacky  had  engaged  him  had 
driven  a  racing  car. 

"Ferris,"  his  master  said,  "we  want  to  start  for  New- 
castle in  half  an  hour." 

"To-night,  sir?"  the  man  asked. 

"Certainly,"  Dalton  answered.  "I  shall  drive  some  of 
the  way  myself.  Everything  is  in  order,  I  suppose?" 

"Everything,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "You  can  start 
in  ten  minutes  if  you  wish." 

"Any  trouble  about  petrol?"  I  asked. 

"We  carry  enough  for  the  whole  journey,  sir,"  the  man 
answered.  "I  '11  have  the  car  round  at  the  front,  sir,  in  a 
few  minutes." 

"Let 's  go  up  and  change  our  clothes,"  Dalton  said. 
"Remember  we  are  going  to  travel,  Austen,  especially  up 
the  north  road.  You  will  want  some  thickish  tweeds  and 
an  overcoat,  although  it  seems  so  stifling  here." 

I  nodded. 

"Right,  Jacky!"  I  answered.  "I'll  be  down  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  or  twenty  minutes  at  the  most." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  we  were  off.  It  was  only 
when  the  great  car  swung  from  the  avenue  into  the 
country  lane  that  Jacky,  who  was  driving,  turned  toward 
me. 

"By  the  bye,"  he  asked,  "what  the  devil  are  we  going 
to  Newcastle  for?" 

I  laughed. 


TO    NEWCASTLE    BY    ROAD          227 

"We  are  going  to  look  at  those  new  battleships,  Jacky," 
I  answered. 

He  stared  at  me. 

"Are  you  in  earnest?" 

"Partly,"  I  answered.  "Let 's  say  we  are  going  for  the 
ride.  It 's  worth  it." 

Dalton  drew  a  long  breath.  We  were  rushing  now 
through  the  silent  night,  with  a  delicious  wind,  strong  and 
cool,  blowing  in  our  faces. 

"By  Jove,  it  is!"  he  assented. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

AN    INTERESTING   DAY 

IT  was  a  little  after  seven  o'clock  the  next  morning  when 
we  turned  into  the  courtyard  of  the  County  Hotel  in 
Newcastle.  Immediately  in  front  of  us  was  the  car  in 
which  we  had  seen  Delora  on  J'ie  previous  afternoon. 
The  chauffeur  was  at  work  upon  it,  and  although  he 
looked  up  at  our  entrance,  he  paid  no  particular  attention 
to  us. 

I  blew  through  the  whistle  to  Ferris. 

"Back  out  of  the  yard  at  once,"  I  said,  "and  go  to  an- 
other hotel." 

Dalton  looked  at  me  in  surprise. 

"Forgive  my  ordering  your  chauffeur  about,"  I  said,  as 
we  glided  backwards  into  the  street.  "That 's  the  car 
we  've  come  up  after,  and  I  don't  want  the  people  who 
travelled  in  it  to  know  that  we  are  on  their  heels." 

Dalton  whistled  softly. 

"So  we  are  on  a  chase,  are  we?"  he  asked.  "You 
might  tell  me  about  it,  Austen." 

"I  can't,"  I  answered.  "It 's  altogether  too  indefinite. 
I  should  n't  tell  you  anything  which  would  sound  like 
common  sense  except  this,  —  that  I  am  exceedingly  curi- 
ous, for  several  reasons,  to  know  what  those  two  men 
who  came  up  in  that  car  have  to  do  in  Newcastle." 

"Who  are  they?"  Dalton  asked. 

"One  is  a  rich  Brazilian  named  Delora,  and  the  othef 
the  Chinese  ambassador,"  I  answered. 


AN    INTERESTING    DAY  229 

The  names  seemed  to  convey  nothing  to  my  companion, 
who  merely  nodded.  We  had  now  arrived  at  the  othtr 
hotel,  and  the  prospects  of  breakfast  were  already  claiming 
our  attention.  We  sat  down  in  the  coffee-room  and  at- 
tacked our  bacon  and  eggs  and  coffee  with  zest. 

"How  long  do  you  want  to  stay  here?"   Dalton  asked. 

"I  am  not  quite  sure,"  I  answered.  "Look  here, 
Jacky,"  I  continued,  "supposing  I  wanted  to  stay  all  day 
and  to  go  back  to-night,  so  that  we  got  home  to  breakfast 
to-morrow  morning,  would  that  be  too  long  for  you?" 

"That  would  do  me  splendidly,"  Dalton  declared.  "I 
have  never  been  in  this  part  of  the  world,  and  I  should 
like  to  look  round.  We  must  be  back  for  to-morrow 
morning,  you  know,  because  all  those  fellows  are  coming 
to  shoot  from  Horington's." 

I  nodded. 

"We  will  make  that  the  latest,"  I  said. 

Jacky  left  me,  a  few  minutes  later,  to  visit  the  local 
garage.  Without  any  clear  idea  as  to  what  was  best  to  be 
done,  I  still  felt  that  I  was  justified  in  making  a  few  in- 
quiries as  to  the  cause  of  Delora's  presence  in  Newcastle 
with  that  particular  companion.  I  went  to  the  telephone, 
therefore,  and  rang  up  the  County  Hotel.  I  asked  to 
speak  to  the  manager,  who  came  at  once  to  the  instrument. 

"I  understand,"  I  said,  "that  the  Chinese  ambassador 
has  just  arrived  at  your  hotel.  Would  you  be  so  kind  as 
tc  ask  him  whether  he  would  consent  to  be  interviewed  as 
to  the  reasons  of  his  visit  ?" 

I  waited  several  minutes  for  a  reply.  When  it  came 
it  was  at  least  emphatic.  The  visit  of  the  ambassador,  the 
manager  told  me,  was  entirely  a  private  one.  He  was 
simply  on  a  motor  tour  with  a  friend,  and  they  had  called 
at  Newcastle  as  it  was  an  interesting  city  which  the  am- 


230  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

bassador  had  never  seen.  He  declined  most  firmly  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  any  interviewer. 

The  reply  being  exactly  what  I  had  expected,  I  was  not 
in  the  least  disappointed. 

"Perhaps,"  I  said  to  the  manager,  "you  can  tell  me  how 
long  he  is  staying." 

"I  have  no  idea,  sir,"  the  manager  answered.  "They 
have  just  ordered  a  carriage  to  make  a  call  in  the  town." 

I  thanked  him,  and  left  the  hotel  at  once  on  foot.  When 
I  arrived  near  the  County  Hotel  a  four-wheel  cab  was 
drawn  up  at  the  entrance.  From  a  safe  distance  I  stood 
watching  it,  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  saw  the  ambassador 
and  Delora  come  swiftly  out  of  the  hotel  and  step  inside. 
I  waited  till  they  had  driven  off,  and  then  crossed  the  road 
to  where  the  hall-porter  was  still  standing  on  the  pave- 
ment. I  put  five  shillings  into  his  hand. 

"I  am  a  reporter,"  I  said.  "Can  you  tell  me  where  the 
ambassador  has  gone  to?" 

He  smiled,  and  touched  his  hat. 

"They  are  going  to  the  offices  of  Messrs.  Halliday  & 
Co.,  the  great  shipbuilders,  in  Corporation  Street,"  he 
answered. 

I  thanked  him,  and  walked  slowly  away.  I  found 
plenty  of  material  for  thought,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that 
there  was  nothing  more  which  I  could  do.  Nevertheless, 
I  walked  along  towards  the  address  which  the  porter  had 
given  me,  and  found,  as  I  had  expected,  that  the  cab  was 
standing  empty  outside.  Opposite  was  a  small  public- 
house.  I  went  in,  ordered  a  whiskey  and  soda,  and  lit 
a  cigarette.  Then  I  sat  down  facing  the  window.  Half 
an  hour  passed,  and  then  an  hour.  It  was  one  o'clock  be- 
fore the  two  men  reappeared.  They  were  accompanied 
by  a  third  person,  whom  I  judged  to  be  a  member  of  the 


AN    INTERESTING    DAY  231 

firm,  and  who  entered  the  cab  with  them.  On  the  pave- 
ment they  were  accosted  by  a  young  man  in  spectacles, 
who  took  off  his  hat  and  said  a  few  words  to  the  ambas- 
sador. The  latter,  however,  shaking  his  head,  stepped 
into  the  cab.  The  young  man  pushed  forward  once  more, 
but  the  cab  drove  off.  As  soon  as  it  had  turned  the  corner 
I  hurried  out  and  addressed  him. 

"His  Excellency  does  not  care  to  be  spoken  to,"  I 
remarked. 

The  reporter  —  his  profession  was  quite  obvious  — 
shook  1  is  head. 

"I  only  wanted  a  word  or  two,"  he  said,  "but  he  would 
not  have  anything  to  say  to  me." 

"I  wonder  if  he  is  going  to  look  over  any  of  the  ships 
that  are  building,"  I  remarked. 

"There  is  nothing  much  in  the  yards,"  the  young  man 
said,  "except  the  two  Brazilian  battleships.  I  don't 
think  that  Hallidays  are  allowed  to  show  any  one  over 
them  unless  they  have  a  special  permit  from  the  Brazilian 
Government." 

I  nodded. 

"Fine  ships,  aren't  they?"  I  asked. 

"The  finest  that  have  ever  left  the  Tyne,"  the  young 
man  answered  enthusiastically.  "\Yhat  a  little  country 
like  Brazil  can  possibly  want  with  the  most  powerful  war- 
ships in  the  world  no  one  can  guess.  Are  you  on  a  London 
paper?"  he  asked  me. 

I  nodded. 

"I  have  followed  them  all  the  way  down  here,"  I  said, 
"but  they  have  not  a  word  to  say.  By  the  bye,"  I  added, 
"did  you  know  that  the  gentleman  with  the  Chinese  am- 
bassador was  a  very  prominent  Brazilian  ?" 

The  reporter  whistled  softly. 


232  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  wonder  what  that  means!"  he  said.  "It  sounds 
interesting,  somehow." 

"Come  and  have  a  drink,"  I  said. 

He  accepted  at  once. 

"What  paper  are  you  on  ?"  he  asked,  as  we  crossed  the 
street. 

"To  be  honest  with  you,"  I  replied,  "I  am  not  on  a  paper 
at  all.  I  am  not  even  a  reporter.  I  am  interested  in  the 
visit  of  these  two  men  to  Newcastle  for  more  serious 
reasons." 

The  young  man  looked  at  me  thoughtfully.  He  slipped 
his  arm  through  mine  as  though  he  intended  never  to  let 
me  go.  Evidently  he  scented  a  story. 

"I  suppose,"  he  said,  "you  mean  that  you  are  a  de- 
tective?" 

"No  !"  I  answered,  "scarcely  that.  I  can  only  tell  you 
that  it  is  my  business  to  watch  the  movements  of  those 
two  men.  " 

I  could  see  from  his  manner  that  he  believed  me  to  be  a 
government  spy,  or  something  of  the  sort.  We  ordered 
our  drinks  and  then  turned,  as  though  by  common  con- 
sent, once  more  to  the  window.  A  motor-car  was  drawn 
up  in  front  of  the  place,  and  an  elderly  man  was  descending 
hurriedly. 

"Hullo  !"  the  reporter  exclaimed.  "That 's  Mr.  Halli- 
day,  the  head  of  the  firm !  They  must  have  telephoned 
for  him.  He  never  comes  down  except  on  a  Thursday. 
Let 's  watch  and  see  what  happens." 

The  shipbuilder  entered  his  offices,  and  was  gone  for 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  When  he  reappeared  he  was 
followed  by  two  clerks,  one  of  whom  was  carrying  a  great 
padlocked  portfolio  under  each  arm,  and  the  other  a  huge 
roll  of  plans.  They  entered  the  motor-car  and  drove  off. 


AN    INTERESTING    DAY  233 

"Come  on,"  I  said,  finishing  my  drink  hurriedly,  "they 
are  off  to  the  County  Hotel." 

We  took  a  hansom  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  and,  sure 
enough,  when  we  arrived  at  the  hotel  Mr.  Halliday's 
motor-car  was  waiting  outside.  We  went  at  once  into  the 
office,  where  my  companion  was  quite  at  home. 

"\\ho's  with  the  Chinaman?"  he  asked  the  manager, 
who  greeted  him  cordially. 

"A  whole  crowd,"  he  answered.  " First  of  all,  Dickinson 
—  Halliday's  manager  —  came  back  with  him,  and  the 
old  man  himself  has  just  arrived  with  a  couple  of  clerks." 

"What's  the  game,  do  you  suppose?"  the  reporter 
asked. 

The  hotel  manager  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"We're  hoping  it  means  orders,"  he  said.  "We  can 
do  with  them.  Hallidays  could  put  on  another  twelve 
hundred  men  and  not  be  crowded,  and  China's  about  the 
most  likely  customer  they  could  get  hold  of  just  now." 

"Which  sitting-room  are  they  in?"   my  friend  asked. 

"Number  12,"  the  manager  answered.  "I  can't  do 
anything  for  you,  though,  Charlie,"  he  added.  "I'd  do 
anything  I  could,  but  they  have  given  special  orders  that 
no  one  is  to  interrupt  them,  and  they  decline  to  be  inter- 
viewed by  or  communicate  with  any  strangers." 

"I  sha:l  see  the  thing  out,  nevertheless,"  my  friend 
announced 

"And  I,"  I  answered.  "Let's  have  lunch  together.  Is 
there -a  smart  boy  in  the  place  who  could  let  us  know- 
directly  any  one  leaves  the  sitting-room  ? " 

The  managei  smiled. 

"Mr.  Sinclair  knows  all  about  that,  sir,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  my  friend.  "I  have  nothing  to  say  about  it, 
of  course." 


234  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Sinclair  left  the  room  for  a  minute  or  two.  When  he 
came  back  he  nodded  confidentially. 

"I  have  a  boy  watching  the  door,"  he  said.  "The 
moment  any  one  leaves  we  shall  hear  of  it." 

We  went  into  the  restaurant  and  ordered  lunch.  In 
about  half  an  hour  a  small  boy  came  hastily  in  and 
addressed  Sinclair. 

"They  have  ordered  luncheon  up  in  the  sitting-room, 
sir,"  he  said.  "I  thought  I'd  better  let  you  know." 

"For  how  many?"    Sinclair  asked  quickly. 

"For  four,  sir,"  he  answered.  "I  fancy  the  two  clerks 
are  coming  out.  The  door  opened  once,  and  they  had 
their  hats  on." 

"Run  along,"  Sinclair  said,  "and  let  us  know  again 
directly  anything  happens." 

The  boy  returned  almost  at  once. 

"The  clerks  have  left,"  he  said.  "The  other  four  are 
going  to  lunch  together." 

"Did  the  clerks  take  the  plans  with  them  ?"  I  asked. 

"Not  all,"  the  boy  answered.  "They  left  two  port- 
folios behind." 

We  finished  our  luncheon  and  returned  to  the  bar.  It 
was  more  than  two  hours  before  anything  else  happened. 
Then  the  boy  entered  a  little  hurriedly. 

"Mr.  Halliday  has  telephoned  for  his  car,  and  is  just 
leaving,  sir,"  he  said.  "The  two  gentlemen  from  London 
have  just  ordered  theirs,  and  I  believe  it  looks  as  though 
Mr.  Dickinson  were  going  with  them.  He  has  telephoned 
for  a  bag  from  his  house." 

I  shook  hands  with  my  friend  the  reporter,  and  we 
parted  company.  I  left  the  hotel  quickly  and  returned 
to  the  King's  Arms,  where  we  were  staying.  I  was  lucky 
enough  to  find  Jack  just  finishing  lunch. 


AN    INTERESTING    DAY  235 

"I  say,  old  man,"  I  exclaimed,  "I  wish  you'd  start  for 
home  at  once  ! " 

"Right  away  !"   he  answered.     "We  '11  ring  for  Ferris." 

The  chauffeur  came  in  and  received  his  orders.  We  got 
into  our  coats  and  walked  out  toward  the  front  door. 
Suddenly  I  drew  Jacky  back  and  stood  behind  a  pillar. 
A  great  touring  car  had  turned  the  corner  and  was  passing 
down  the  street.  In  it  were  three  men,  —  the  Chinese 
ambassador,  Delora,  and  the  man  who  had  left  the 
offices  of  Messrs.  Halliday  with  them. 

"Is  that  the  road  to  London?"     I  asked  the  porter. 

"It  is  the  way  into  the  main  road,  sir,"  he  answyered, 
—  "two  hundred  and  sixty-five  miles." 

They  swung  round  the  corner  and  disappeared.  Our 
own  car  was  just  drawing  up.  I  turned  to  Jacky. 

"We'd  better  wait  a  few  minutes,"  I  said,  "and  tell 
your  man  not  to  overtake  that  car!" 

Jacky  looked  at  me  in  surprise.  He  was  by  no  means  a 
curious  person,  but  he  was  obviously  puzzled. 

"What  a  mysterious  person  you  have  become,  Austen  !" 
he  said.  "What's  it  all  about?" 

"You  will  know  some  day,"  I  answered,  as  we  made 
ourselves  comfortable,  —  "perhaps  before  many  hours  are 
past!" 


CHAPTER  XXXn 

A   PROPOSAL 

WE  arrived  at  Feltham  at  a  few  minutes  past  ten  o'clock, 
having  seen  nothing  of  the  car  which  had  left  Newcastle  a 
few  minutes  before  ours.  Several  times  we  asked  on  the 
road  and  heard  news  of  it,  but  we  could  find  no  sign  of  it 
having  stopped  even  for  a  moment.  Apparently  it  had  been 
driven,  without  pause  for  rest  or  refreshment,  at  top  speed, 
and  we  learned  that  two  summonses  would  probably  be 
issued  against  its  owners.  Jacky,  who  was  delighted  with 
the  whole  expedition,  sat  with  his  watch  in  his  hands  for 
the  last  few  miles,  and  made  elaborate  calculations  as  to 
our  average  speed,  the  distance  we  had  traversed,  and 
other  matters  interesting  to  the  owner  of  a  powerful  car. 

We  were  greeted,  when  we  arrived,  with  all  sorts  of 
inquiries  as  to  our  expedition,  but  we  declined  to  say  a 
word  until  we  had  dined.  We  had  scarcely  commenced 
our  meal  before  the  butler  came  hurrying  in. 

"His  Lordship  is  ringing  up  from  London,  sir,''  he 
said.  "He  wishes  to  speak  to  you  particularly.  The 
telephone  is  through  into  the  library." 

I  made  my  way  there  and  took  up  the  receiver  without 
any  special  interest.  Ralph  was  fidgety  these  days,  and 
I  had  no  doubt  that  he  had  something  to  say  to  me 
about  the  shooting.  His  first  words,  however,  riveted 
my  attention. 

"Is  that  you,  Austen?"  he  asked. 

"I  am  here,"  I  answered.    "How  are  you,  Ralph  ?" 


A    PROPOSAL  237 

"I  am  all  right,"  he  said.  "Rather  better  than  usual, 
in  fact.  Where  on  earth  have  you  been  to  all  day  ?  I  have 
rung  up  four  times." 

"I  have  been  motoring  with  Jacky,"  I  told  him.  "We 
have  been  for  rather  a  long  run.  Have  you  been  wanting 
me?" 

"  Yes  ! "  he  answered.  "  I  have  had  a  very  curious  cable 
from  Dicky  which  I  can't  understand.  I  am  sorry  to 
bother  you,  but  I  think  you  had  better  come  up  to  town 
by  the  first  train  in  the  morning.  It 's  something  to  do  with 
these  Deloras." 

"The  devil  it  is  !"  I  exclaimed.  "I'll  come,  Ralph.  I 
shall  motor  to  Norwich,  and  catch  the  eight  o'clock. 
Could  you  give  me  an  idea  of  what  it  is?" 

"I  think  I'd  rather  not  over  the  telephone,"  Ralph 
declared,  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 

"Don't  be  an  idiot!"  I  answered.  "I  am  really  very 
much  interested." 

"It's  a  queer  business,"  Ralph  said,  "but  it  will  keep 
until  to-morrow.  I  shall  send  the  car  for  you  to  Liverpool 
Street,  and  you  had  better  come  straight  to  me." 

"Dicky  is  all  right,  I  hope ?"  I  asked. 

"Dicky's  all  right,"  Ralph  answered.  "What  sort  of 
sport  are  you  having  there  ?" 

"Very  fair,"  I  answered.  "Heggs  sends  you  the  figures 
every  day,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes!"  Ralph  answered.  "You  seem  to  have  done 
very  well  at  the  birds.  Till  to-morrow,  Austen  !" 

"Till  to-morrow,"  I  replied.  "Good  night,  old 
chap!" 

"Good  night!" 

I  put  down  the  receiver  and  went  back  to  my  dinner 
more  than  ever  puzzled.  Ralph's  summons,  I  felt,  absolved 


238  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

me  from  any  promise  I  might  have  made  to  Delora,  and  I 
was  looking  eagerly  forward  to  the  morrow,  when  I  should 
be  once  more  in  London.  What  puzzled  me,  however, 
more  even  than  Dicky's  message,  was  the  extreme  interest 
Ralph's  tone  seemed  to  denote.  His  voice  sounded  quite 
like  his  old  self. 

"  Jacky,"  I  said,  as  we  finished  dinner,  "will  you  lend 
me  your  car  to  take  me  into  Norwich  to-morrow  ?  I  have 
to  catch  the  eight  o'clock  train  to  town." 

"I'll  lend  it  you  with  pleasure,"  Jacky  said,  looking  at 
me  in  amazement,  "but  what  on  earth  's  up?" 

"Nothing,"  I  answered.  "Simply  Ralph  wants  to  see 
me.  He  is  n't  particularly  communicative  himself,  but  he 
is  very  anxious  that  I  should  go  to  town  to-morrow.  Some- 
how or  other  I  have  more  confidence  in  your  Napier  than 
in  either  of  our  cars  when  it  comes  to  catching  a  train  at 
that  time  in  the  morning." 

"I'll  run  you  up  to  town,  if  you  like,"  Jacky  declared, 
in  a  burst  of  good-nature. 

"It  isn't  necessary,"  I  answered.  "I  shall  get  up 
quicker  by  train,  and  Ralph  's  going  to  meet  me  at  Liver- 
pool Street.  Thanks,  all  the  same  ! " 

Jacky  lit  a  cigar. 

"I'll  go  out  and  tell  Ferris  myself,"  he  said. 

Once  more  Jacky's  car  did  not  fail  me.  Punctually  at  a 
quarter  to  eight  we  drove  into  Norwich  Station  yard.  I 
breakfasted  on  the  train,  and  reached  Liverpool  Street  a 
few  minutes  after  eleven.  I  found  Ralph's  big  Panhard 
there,  but  Ralph  himself  had  not  come. 

"His  Lordship  is  expecting  you  at  the  hotel,  sir,"  the 
chauffeur  told  me.  "He  would  have  come  down  himself, 
but  he  was  expecting  a  caller." 


A    PROPOSAL  239 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  I  was  in  iny  brother's  sitting- 
room.  Ralph  greeted  me  cordially. 

"Austen,"  he  said,  "I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  have  not 
brought  you  up  on  rather  a  fool's  errand,  but  you  seemed 
rather  mystified  yourself  about  these  Deloras.  Here  's 
the  cable  from  Dicky.  What  do  you  make  of  it  ?  Must 
have  cost  him  something,  extravagant  young  beggar!" 

He  passed  it  across  to  me.    I  read  it  out  aloud. 

DELORA  HERE  PUZZLED  NOT  HEARING  FROM  BROTHER 
SHOULD  BE  IN  LONDON  IMPORTANT  BUSINESS  FEARS 
SOMETHING  WRONG  ALL  CODED  CABLES  REMAIN  UN- 
ANSWERED INQUIRE  MILAN  HOTEL  IF  POSSIBLE  FIND 
DELORA  BEG  HIM  CABLE  AT  ONCE  IN  CHALDEAN  CODE. 

I  read  the  cable  through  three  times. 

"May  I  take  this,  Ralph  ?"  I  said.  "I  will  go  round  to 
the  Milan  at  once." 

"Certainly,"  Ralph  answered.  "I  will  leave  the  matter 
entirely  in  your  hands.  It  seems  as  though  there  were 
something  queer  about  it." 

"There  is  something  queer  going  on,  Ralph,"  I  assured 
him.  "  I  have  found  out  as  much  as  that  myself .  Exactly 
what  it  means  I  can't  fathom.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  it  has 
been  taking  a  lot  of  my  time  lately,  and  I  know  very  little 
more  than  when  I  started." 

"It's  the  young  lady,  I  suppose,"  Ralph  remarked 
thoughtfully. 

I  nodded. 

"I  am  not  over  keen  about  interfering  in  other  people's 
concerns,  Ralph,"  I  said.  "You  know  that.  It's  the  girl, 
of  course,  and  I  am  afraid,  I  am  very  much  afraid,  that 
there  is  something  wrong." 

"Anyhow,"  Ralph  said,  "it  does  n't  follow  that  the  girl 's 
in  it."  * 


24o  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  am  jolly  certain  she  is  n't !"  I  said.  "What  bothers 
me,  of  course,  is  that  I  hate  to  think  of  her  being  mixed 
up  with  anything  shady.  The  Deloras  may  be  great  people 
in  their  own  country,  but  I  '11  swear  that  our  friend  here  is 
a  wrong  'un." 

"I  suppose  you  are  sure,"  Ralph  said  thoughtfully, 
"that  he  is  Delora  —  that  he  is  not  an  impostor,  I 
mean  ?  " 

"I  thought  of  that,"  I  answered,  "but  you  see  there's 
the  girl.  She'd  know  her  own  uncle,  would  n't  she  ?  And 
she  told  me  that  she  had  seen  him  on  and  off  for  years.  No, 
he  is  Delora  right  enough !  One  can't  tell,"  I  continued. 
"Perhaps  the  whole  thing's  crooked.  Perhaps  the  Deloras 
who  seem  to  Dicky  such  charming  people  in  their  own 
country  are  a  different  sort  of  people  on  this  side.  At  any 
rate,  I'm  off,  Ralph,  with  that  cable.  I'll  look  you  up  as 
soon  as  I  have  found  out  anything." 

Ralph  smiled. 

"I  don't  believe,"  he  said,  "you  are  sorry  to  have  an 
excuse  for  having  another  turn  at  this  affair." 

"Perhaps  not,"  I  answered. 

"Take  the  car,"  Ralph  called  out  after  me.  "You  may 
find  it  useful." 

I  drove  first  to  the  small  hotel  where  I  had  last  seen 
Delora.  Here,  however,  I  was  confronted  with  a  certain 
difficulty.  The  name  of  Delora  was  quite  unknown  to  the 
people.  I  described  him  carefully,  however,  to  the  land- 
lady, and  she  appeared  to  recognize  him. 

"The  gentleman  you  mean  was,  I  think,  a  Mr.  Henri- 
quois.  He  left  us  the  day  before  yesterday." 

"  You  know  where  he  went  to  ?  "  I  asked. 

She  shook  her  head. 


A    PROPOSAL  241 

"He  asked  for  a  Continental  time-table,"  she  said,  "but 
he  gave  no  address,  nor  did  he  tell  any  one  of  his  intentions. 
He  was  a  gentleman  that  kept  himself  to  himself,"  she 
remarked,  looking  at  me  a  little  curiously. 

I  thanked  the  woman  and  departed.  Delora  was 
scarcely  likely  to  have  left  behind  any  reliable  details  of  his 
intentions  at  such  a  place.  I  drove  on  to  the  Milan,  and 
entered  the  Court  with  a  curious  little  thrill  of  interest. 
The  hall-porter  welcomed  me  with  a  smile. 

"Glad  to  see  you  back  again,  Captain  Rotherby,"  he 
said.  "Have  you  any  luggage?" 

"None,"  I  answered.  "I  am  not  sure  whether  I  shall  be 
staying." 

"This  morning's  letters  are  in  your  room,  sir,"  he 
announced. 

I  nodded.  I  was  not  particularly  interested  in  my 
letters !  I  drew  Ashley  a  little  on  one  side. 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "is  Miss  Delora  still  here?" 

"She  is  still  here,  sir,"  Ashley  announced. 

"The  companion  also?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,  sir!"  he  answered.  "I  am  not  sure  whether 
they  are  in,  sir,  but  they  are  still  staying  here." 

"And  Mr.  Delora?"  I  asked,  —  "has  he  ever  turned 
up  yet  ?  " 

"Not  yet,  sir.  The  young  lady  said  that  they  were 
expecting  him  now  every  day." 

"Telephone  up  and  see  if  Miss  Delora  is  in,  Ashley,"  I 
asked. 

He  disappeared  for  a  moment  into  his  office. 

"No  answer,  sir,"  he  announced  presently.  "I  believe 
that  they  are  out." 

Almost  as  he  spoke  I  saw  through  the  windows  of  the 
hair-dresser's  shop  a  familiar  figure  entering  the  hoteL 


242  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

I  left  Ashley  hurriedly,  and  in  a  moment  I  was  face  to  face 
with  Felicia.  She  gave  a  little  cry  when  she  saw  me,  and  it 
was  a  joy  to  me  to  realize  that  it  was  a  cry  of  pleasure. 

"  Capitaine  Rotherby  ! "  she  exclaimed.     "You!" 

She  gave  me  her  hands  with  an  impetuous  little  move- 
ment. I  held  them  tightly  in  mine. 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you  at  once,"  I  said.  "Where  can 
we  go?" 

"Madame  is  out  for  an  hour,"  she  said.  "We  could 
go  in  the  little  smoking-room.  But  have  you  forgotten 
your  promise?" 

"Never  mind  about  that,  Felicia,"  I  whispered.  "Some- 
thing has  happened.  I  went  first  to  see  your  uncle,  but  I 
could  not  find  him.  I  must  talk  with  you.  Come !" 

We  walked  together  across  the  hall,  through  the  end  of 
the  cafe,  down  which  she  threw  one  long,  anxious  glance, 
and  entered  the  little  smoking-room.  It  was  empty  ex- 
cept for  one  man  writing  letters.  I  led  the  way  into  the 
most  remote  corner,  and  wheeled  out  an  easy-chair. 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "if  I  can  get  a  special  license,  will  you 
marry  me  to-morrow  ?" 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

FELICIA   HESITATES 

FELICIA  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  with  wide-open  eyes. 
Then  a  little  stream  of  color  rushed  into  her  cheeks,  her 
lips  slowly  parted,  and  she  laughed,  not  altogether  without 
embarrassment. 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  "you  must  not  say 
such  things  —  so  suddenly  !" 

"Last  time  we  met,"  I  reminded  her,  "you  called  me 
Austen." 

"Austen,  then,  if  I  must,"  she  said.  "You  know  very 
well  that  you  should  not  be  here.  You  are  breaking  a 
promise.  It  is  very,  very  nice  to  see  you,"  she  continued. 
"Indeed,  I  do  feel  that.  But  I  am  afraid  !" 

"I  have  sufficient  reasons  for  breaking  my  promise, 
dear,"  I  said,  taking  her  hand  in  mine.  "I  will  explain 
them  to  you  by  and  by.  In  the  meantime,  please  answer 
my  question." 

"You  are  serious,  then  ?"  she  asked,  looking  at  me  with 
wide-open  eyes,  and  lips  which  quivered  a  little  —  whether 
with  laughter  or  emotion  I  could  not  tell. 

"I  am  serious,"  I  answered.  "You  want  taking  care  of, 
Felicia,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  should  be  the  best 
person  in  the  world  to  do  it." 

Her  eyes  fell  before  mine.  She  seemed  to  be  studying 
the  point  of  her  long  patent  shoe.  As  usual  she  was 
dressed  delightfully,  in  a  light  fawn-colored  tailor-made 
gown  and  a  large  black  hat.  Nevertheless  she  seemed  to 


244  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

me  to  be  thinner  and  frailer  than  when  I  had  first  seen  her 
—  too  girlish,  almost,  for  her  fashionable  clothes. 

"Do  you  think  that  you  would  take  care  of  me?"  she 
said  softly.  "I  am  afraid  I  am  a  very  ignorant  little 
person.  I  do  not  know  much  about  England  or  English 
ways,  and  every  one  says  that  things  are  so  different  here." 

"There  is  one  thing,"  I  declared,  "which  is  the  same 
all  the  world  over,  and  that  is  that  when  two  people  care 
for  one  another,  the  world  becomes  not  such  a  very  diffi- 
cult place  to  live  in,  Felicia.  I  wonder  if  you  could  not 
try  and  care  a  little  for  me?" 

"I  do,"  she  murmured,  without  looking  up. 

"Enough?"  I  asked. 

She  sighed.  Suddenly  she  raised  her  eyes,  and  I  saw 
things  there  which  amazed  me.  They  were  no  longer  the 
eyes  of  a  frightened  child.  I  was  thrilled  with  the  passion 
which  seemed  somehow  or  other  to  have  been  born  in  their 
deep  blue  depths. 

"Dear  Austen,"  she  said,  "I  think  that  I  care  quite 
enough.  But  listen.  How  can  I  say,  'Yes,'  to  you?  Al- 
ways my  uncle  has  been  kind,  in  his  way.  I  know  now 
that  he  is  worried,  harassed  to  death,  afraid,  even,  of  what 
may  happen  hour  by  hour.  I  could  not  leave  him.  He 
would  think  that  I  had  lost  faith,  that  I  had  gone  over 
to  his  enemies." 

"Felicia  dear,"  I  said,  "I  do  not  wish  to  be  the  enemy 
of  any  one  who  is  your  friend.  Indeed,  your  uncle  and 
his  doings  mean  so  little  to  me.  If  they  are  honest,  I  might 
be  able  to  help  him.  If  he  is  engaged  in  transactions  of 
which  he  is  ashamed,  then  it  is  time  that  you  were  taken 
away." 

"I  will  never  believe  that,"  she  declared. 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "I  will  tell  you  why  I  have  broken  my 


FELICIA    HESITATES  245 

promise  and  come  to  London.  I  believe  I  told  you  that  I 
had  a  brother  out  in  Brazil?" 

"Yes  !"   she  answered,  —  "Dicky,  you  called  him." 

"He  wrote,  you  know,  and  said  that  he  had  been  staying 
with  the  Deloras  on  their  estate,  and  he  begged  that  I 
should  call  upon  your  uncle  here.  Now  I  have  had  a  cable 
from  him.  Felicia,  there  is  something  wrong.  You  shall 
read  the  cable  for  yourself." 

I  gave  it  to  her.  She  read  it  word  by  word.  Then  she 
read  it  again,  aloud,  very  softly  to  herself,  and  finally  gave 
it  back  to  me. 

"I  do  not  understand,"  she  whispered.  "I  do  not 
know  why  my  uncle  has  not  communicated  with  his 
brother." 

"I  am  beginning  to  believe,  Felicia,"  I  said,  "that  I 
know  more  than  you.  I  tell  you  frankly  I  believe  that 
your  uncle  has  kept  silence  because  he  is  not  honestly 
carrying  out  the  business  on  which  he  was  sent  to  Eng- 
land. Tell  me  exactly,  will  you  ?  When  did  he  arrive 
from  America?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Austen,"  she  said,  "you  know  there  were  some  things 
which  I  promised  to  keep  silent  about,  and  this  is  one." 

"At  any  rate,"  I  said,  half  to  myself,  "he  could  not 
have  been  in  Paris  more  than  three  weeks.  I  do  not  under- 
stand how  in  that  three  weeks  he  could  have  obtained 
such  a  hold  upon  you  that  you  should  come  here  and  do 
his  bidding  blindly,  although  you  must  know  that  some 
of  the  things  he  does  are  extraordinary  and  mysterious." 

She  was  obviously  distressed. 

"There  is  something,"  she  said,  "of  course,  which  I  am 
not  telling  you,  —  something  which  I  promised  to  keep 
secret.  But,  Austen,"  she  went  on,  laying  her  fingers  upon 


246  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

my  coat  sleeve,  "let  me  tell  you  this.  I  am  getting  more 
and  more  worried  every  day.  I  understand  nothing.  The 
explanations  which  I  have  had  from  my  uncle  grow  more 
and  more  extraordinary.  Why  we  are  here,  why  he  is 
still  in  hiding,  why  he  lives  in  the  shadow  of  such  fear  day 
by  day,  I  cannot  imagine.  I  am  beginning  to  lose  heart. 
Through  the  telephone  last  night  I  told  him  that  I  must 
see  him.  He  has  half  promised  that  I  shall,  to-day  or  to- 
morrow. I  shall  tell  him,  Austen,  that  I  must  know  more 
about  the  reasons  for  all  this  mystery,  or  I  will  go  back  to 
Madame  Quintaine's.  I  wrote  to  her  soon  after  I  came 
here,  when  I  was  frightened,  and  she  told  me  that  she 
would  gladly  have  me  back.  My  uncles  have  always  paid 
her  a  good  deal  of  money,"  she  went  on,  "for  taking  care 
of  me." 

I  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "you  are  talking  like  a  dear,  sensible 
little  woman.  But,"  I  added,  "you  have  not  answered 
my  question  !" 

She  looked  away,  laughing. 

"Of  course  you  are  not  in  earnest!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Of  course  I  am  !"  I  persisted. 

"You  must  know,"  she  said  softly,  "that  I  could  not 
do  a  thing  like  that.  My  uncle  has  always  been  so  kind 
to  me—" 

"But  you  have  only  seen  him  three  weeks,"  I  inter- 
rupted. "Before  that  he  was  in  Brazil !" 

She  was  silent  for  several  moments. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "even  if  it  were  so,  he  could  be  very 
kind  to  me,  could  n't  he,  even  if  he  was  in  Brazil  and  I  was 
in  Paris?  You  see,  my  father  was  the  poor  one  of  the 
family,  who  died  without  any  money  at  all,  yet  I  have 
always  had  everything  in  the  world  I  want,  and  when  I 


FELICIA    HESITATES  247 

come  of  age  they  are  going  to  give  me  a  great  sum  of 
money.  It  is  not  that  I  think  about,"  she  went  on,  "but 
they  write  to  me  always,  and  they  treat  me  as  though  I 
were  their  own  daughter.  Often  they  have  said  how  they 
would  love  to  have  had  me  out  in  Brazil.  I  think  that  it 
is  really  their  own  kindness  that  they  let  me  stay  in  Paris." 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "tell  me  really  how  much  you  do 
know  of  your  uncle  —  the  one  who  is  with  you  now  ? " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"No!"  she  said.  "  I  cannot  do  that.  I  made  a  promise 
and  I  must  keep  it.  But  I  will  promise  you  this,  if  you 
like.  If  I  find  that  it  is  not  the  truth  which  I  have  been 
told  I  will  come  to  you  if  you  want  me." 

I  held  her  hands  tightly  in  mine. 

"You  are  beginning  to  have  doubts,  are  you  not?"  I 
asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  she  answered.  "I  don't  know! 
There  are  times  when  I  am  frightened.  Austen,  I  must 
go  now." 

I  looked  at  the  clock.    It  was  almost  two  o'clock. 

"We  couldn't  have  lunch  together,  I  suppose?"  I 
asked. 

She  shook  her  head,  laughing. 

"I  had  lunch  more  than  an  hour  ago,"  she  said,  "and  I 
have  to  meet  madame  at  a  dress-maker's.  I  must  go, 
really,  Austen." 

"Can't  I  see  you  again,  dear?" 

"I  will  come  into  this  room,  if  I  can,  about  five,"  she 
said.  "Don't  come  out  with  me  now.  It  is  the  luncheon 
time  in  the  cafe,  and  I  am  afraid  of  Louis." 

She  flitted  away,  leaving  behind  a  faint  odor  of  violets 
shaken  from  the  skirts  she  had  lifted  so  daintily  as  she  had 
hurried  down  the  few  steps.  I  watched  her  out  of  sight. 


248  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Then  I  opened  the  door  myself  and  passed  out  into  the 
cafe.  .  .  . 

Louis,  for  the  first  few  minutes,  was  not  visible,  but  one 
of  the  other  maitres  d'hotel  procured  for  me  a  table  in  a 
somewhat  retired  corner  of  the  room.  My  luncheon  was 
already  served  before  Louis  appeared  before  me.  For 
the  second  time  his  impassive  countenance  seemed  to  be 
disturbed. 

"Back  in  London,  Captain  Rotherby,"  he  remarked, 
with  the  ghost  of  his  usual  welcoming  smile. 

"Back  again,  Louis,"  I  answered  cheerfully. 

Louis  bent  over  my  table. 

"I  thought,"  he  said,  "that  an  English  gentleman 
never  broke  his  promise!" 

"Nor  does  he,  Louis,"  I  answered,  "unless  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  it  was  given  themselves  change. 
I  came  up  from  the  country  this  morning." 

"Upon  private  business?"  Louis  asked. 

"No  !"  I  answered.  "Upon  the  business  in  which  you 
and  Mr.  Delora  are  both  interested.  Did  you  know,  Louis, 
that  I  had  a  brother  in  Brazil  ?" 

"What  of  it,  monsieur?"    Louis  asked  sharply. 

For  once  I  had  the  best  of  matters.  Louis  was  evidently 
in  a  highly  nervous  state,  from  which  I  imagined  that 
things  connected  with  their  undertaking,  whatever  it  might 
be,  had  reached  a  critical  stage.  There  were  lines  under- 
neath his  eyes,  and  he  looked  about  him  every  now  and 
then  nervously. 

"My  brother,"  I  remarked,  "first  wrote  to  me  to  be  sure 
and  look  up  Mr.  Delora,  and  to  be  civil  to  him.  I  have 
done  this  to  the  best  of  my  ability !" 

Louis  frowned. 

"Go  on,"  he  said. 


FELICIA    HESITATES  249 

"Last  night,'*  I  continued,  speaking  very  deliberately, 
"my  brother  who  is  in  London  rang  me  up  in  Norfolk. 
He  told  me  that  be  had  just  received  a  cable  from  Dicky 
concerning  Mr.  Delora.  It  was  at  his  earnest  request  that 
I  came  to  London  this  morning.  By  the  bye,  Louis,"  I 
added,  "I  think  that  I  should  like  some  Riz  Diane." 

Louis  looked  for  a  moment  as  though  he  were  about  to 
consign  my  innocent  desire  for  Riz  Diane  to  the  bottommost 
depths.  The  effort  with  which  he  recovered  himself  was 
really  magnificent.  He  drew  a  long  breath,  and  bowed  his 
acquiescence. 

"By  all  means,  monsieur!" 

He  called  to  a  waiter,  and  was  particular  in  his  instruc- 
tions as  to  my  order.  Then  he  turned  back  to  me. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  "you  will  tell  me  what  was  in  that 
cable?" 

"I  think  not,  Louis,"  I  answered.  "You  see  I  really 
cannot  recognize  you  in  this  matter  at  all.  I  must  find  Mr. 
Delora  at  once.  It  is  important." 

"But  if  he  cannot  be  found  ?"  Louis  asked  quickly. 

"Then  I  think  that  the  best  thing  I  can  do,"  I  con- 
tinued, after  a  moment's  pause,  "  is  to  call  at  the  Brazilian 
embassy." 

I  had  a  feeling,  the  feeling  for  a  moment  that,  notwith- 
standing the  crowded  room  and  Louis'  attitude  of  polite 
attention,  my  life  was  in  danger.  There  flashed  some- 
thing in  his  eyes  indescribably  venomous.  I  seemed  to 
see  there  his  intense  and  passionate  desire  to  sweep  me 
from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

"Of  course,"  I  continued,  "if  I  can  find  Mr.  Delora, 
that  is  what  I  would  really  prefer.  There  is  a  certain 
matter  upon  which  I  must  have  an  explanation  from  him.'* 

"Monsieur  will  not  have  finished  his  luncheon  for  twenty 


250  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

minutes  or  so,"  Louis  said  calmly.  "At  the  end  of  that 
time  I  will  return." 

"Always  glad  to  have  a  chat  with  you,  Louis,"  I  de- 
clared. 

"You  will  not  leave,"  he  asked,  "before  I  come  back  ?" 

"Not  if  you  return  in  a  reasonable  time,"  I  answered. 

Louis  bowed  and  hurried  off.  I  saw  him  disappear 
for  a  moment  into  the  service  room.  When  he  came  out 
into  the  restaurant  he  was  once  more  discharging  his 
duties,  moving  about  amongst  his  clients,  supervising, 
suggesting,  bidding  farewell  to  departing  guests,  and  wel- 
coming new  arrivals.  A  very  busy  man,  Louis,  for  the 
cafe  was  crowded  that  day.  I  wondered,  as  I  saw  him 
pass  backwards  and  forwards,  with  that  eternal  and  yet 
not  displeasing  smile  upon  his  lips,  what  lay  at  the  back 
of  his  head  concerning  me  ! 


AN    APPOINTMENT   WITH    DELORA 

MY  Riz  Diane  duly  arrived,  but  was  served,  I  noticed,  by 
a  different  waiter.  It  looked  very  tempting,  and  it  was 
indeed  a  dish  of  which  I  was  particularly  fond,  but  I  real- 
ized that  it  had  been  specially  ordered  by  Louis,  and  with 
a  sigh  I  pushed  it  on  one  side.  I  finished  my  luncheon 
with  rolls  and  butter,  and  took  care  to  procure  my  coffee 
before  Louis  returned. 

"Well,"  I  asked,  as  he  stopped  once  more  before  me, 
"  what  is  it  to  be  ?  Are  you  going  to  give  me  Delora's 
address?" 

"That  is  not  the  trouble,  monsieur,"  Louis  declared. 
"Mr.  Delora  is  away  from  London." 

"I  think  you  will  find  that  he  is  back  again,  Louis,"  I 
answered.  "It  was  a  very  interesting  trip  to  Newcastle, 
but  it  was  soon  over.  He  arrived  in  London  with  his  illus- 
trious companion  last  night." 

This  time  I  had  really  astonished  Lonis !  He  looked 
at  me  with  a  genuine  expression  of  profound  surprise. 

"You  are  under  the  impression,"  he  said  slowly,  "that 
Mr.  Delora  has  been  to  Newcastle!" 

"That  is  scarcely  the  way  I  look  at  it,  Louis,"  I  an- 
swered. "You  see  I  was  in  Newcastle  myself  and 
saw  him." 

I  fancy  that  Louis'  manner  toward  me,  from  this  time 
onward,  acquired  a  new  respect,  but  I  recognized  the  fact 
that  there  was  danger  greater  than  ever  before  under  his 
increasing  suaveness. 


252  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "you  were  not  meant  to 
be  an  idle  man.  You  have  gifts  of  which  you  should  make 
use!" 

"In  the  meantime,"  I  said,  "when  can  I  see  Mr. 
Delora?" 

"This  afternoon,  if  you  like,"  Louis  answered.  "Here 
is  his  address." 

He  scribbled  a  few  words  down  on  a  piece  of  paper  and 
passed  it  to  me.  When  I  had  received  it  I  did  not  like  it. 
It  was  an  out-of-the-way  street  in  Bermondsey,  in  a 
quarter  of  which  I  was  absolutely  ignorant  except  by 
repute. 

"  Could  n't  we  arrange,  don't  you  think,  Louis,"  I 
asked,  "to  have  Mr.  Delora  come  up  here?" 

"You  could  send  down  a  note  and  ask  him,"  Louis 
answered.  "He  is  staying  at  that  address  under  the  name 
of  Hoffmeyer." 

"I  will  write  him  a  letter,"  I  decided,  signing  my 
bill. 

"You  will  let  me  know  the  result?"  Louis  asked,  look- 
ing at  me  anxiously. 

"Certainly,"  I  answered. 

I  rose  to  my  feet,  but  Louis  did  not  immediately  stand 
aside. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "there  is  one  thing  I 
should  like  to  ask  you.  How  did  you  know  of  Mr.  De- 
lora's  projected  visit  to  Newcastle?" 

I  smiled/ 

"Why  should  I  give  away  my  methods,  Louis  ?"  I  said. 
"You  know  very  well  that  the  movements  of  Mr.  Delora 
have  become  very  interesting  to  me.  You  and  I  are  on 
opposite  sides.  I  certainly  do  not  feel  called  upon  to 
disclose  my  sources  of  information." 


AN    APPOINTMENT    WITH    DELORA       253 

I  passed  out  of  the  restaurant,  and  ascended  to  my  own 
room.  There  I  drew  a  sheet  of  paper  toward  me  and 
wrote. 

DEAR  SIR, 

I  trust  you  will  recognize  the  fact  that  although  I  am  writing 
to  you  from  London,  and  from  the  Milan  Hotel,  I  have  not  in- 
tentionally broken  the  compact  I  made  with  you.  The  fact  is, 
a  somewhat  singular  thing  has  occurred.  My  brother  —  Mr. 
Richard  Rotherby  —  whom  you  will  doubtless  remember,  and 
who  speaks  most  gratefully  of  your  hospitality  in  Brazil,  has 
sent  me  a  cable  on  behalf  of  your  brother  —  Mr.  Nicholas 
Delora.  It  seems  that  you  have  not  kept  him  acquainted  with 
your  doings  here,  and  that  you  have  failed  to  make  use  of  a 
certain  cipher  that  was  agreed  upon.  He  is,  therefore,  ex- 
ceedingly anxious  to  know  of  your  doings,  and  has  begged  me 
to  see  you  at  once  and  report.  Will  you,  for  that  purpose,  be 
good  enough  to  grant  me  a  five  minutes'  interview? 

Sincerely  yours, 

AUSTEN  ROTHERBY. 

I  sealed  this  letter,  and  addressed  it  to  the  very  obscure 
street  in  Berniondsey  which  Louis  had  designated.  Then 
I  procured  a  messenger  boy  and  sent  it  off,  with  instruc- 
tions that  the  bearer  must  wait  for  an  answer.  Afterwards 
there  was  little  for  me  to  do  but  wait.  I  tried  to  see 
Felicia,  but  I  only  succeeded  in  having  the  door  of  her 
rooms  practically  slammed  in  my  face  by  Madame  Muller. 
I  was  too  anxious  for  a  reply  to  my  letter  to  go  round  to 
the  club,  so  I  simply  hung  about  the  place,  smoking  and 
waiting.  When  at  last  the  messenger  boy  came  back, 
however,  it  was  only  to  report  a  certain  amount  of  fail- 
ure. He  had  found  the  right  address  and  delivered  the 
note,  but  the  gentleman  was  out,  and  not  expected  in  till 
the  evening.  After  this,  I  went  round  to  my  club,  leaving 


254  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

an  order  that  any  note  or  message  was  to  be  sent  after  me. 
I  cut  into  a  rubber  of  bridge,  but  I  had  scarcely  finished 
my  second  game  before  a  telegram  was  brought  in  for  me, 
sent  on  from  the  Milan.  I  tore  it  open.  It  was  from 
Delora. 

Itave  received  your  note.  Will  see  you  at  this  address  ten 
o'clock  this  evening. 

I  thrust  the  telegram  into  my  waistcoat  pocket  and  fin- 
ished the  rubber.  Soon  afterwards  I  cut  out  and  took  a 
hansom  round  to  Claridge's  Hotel.  I  found  my  brother 
in  and  expecting  to  hear  from  me. 

"Ralph,"  I  said,  "I  can't  bring  you  any  news  just  now. 
If  you  must  cable  Dicky,  you  had  better  just  cable  that 
we  are  making  inquiries.  I  have  an  appointment  to  see 
Delora  at  ten  o'clock  to-night." 

"Where  is  he?"   Ralph  asked,  with  interest. 

"The  address  he  has  sent  me  is  some  low  street  in 
Bermondsey,"  I  answered.  "It  is  absolutely  impossible 
that  he  should  have  chosen  such  a  place  to  stop  in  except 
as  a  hiding-place.  I  don't  like  the  look  of  it,  Ralph." 

"Then  don't  go,"  Ralph  said  quickly.  "There  is  no 
need  for  you  to  run  into  danger  for  nothing  at  all." 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  that,"  I  answered.  "What  really 
bothers  me  is  that  I  am  up  against  a  problem  which  seems 
insoluble.  Frankly,  I  don't  believe  a  snap  of  the  fingers 
in  Delora.  No  man,  however  secret  or  important  his  busi- 
ness might  be,  would  descend  to  such  subterfuges.  The 
only  point  in  his  favor  is  that  this  dodging  about  may 
be  all  due  to  political  reasons.  I  cannot  understand  his 
friendship  with  the  Chinese  ambassador." 

"Can't  you  ?"  Ralph  answered.    "I  have  been  thinking 


AN    APPOINTMENT   WITH    DELORA      255 

over  what  you  told  me,  Austen,  and  I  fancy,  perhaps,  I 
can  give  you  a  hint.  Do  you  know  that  at  the  present 
moment  the  two  most  powerful  battleships  in  the  world 
are  being  built  on  the  Tyne  for  Brazil  ?" 

"I  know  that,"  I  admitted.     "Go  on." 

"  What  does  Brazil  want  with  battleships  of  that  class  ?" 
my  brother  continued.  "Obviously  they  would  be  useless 
to  her.  She  could  not  man  them.  It  would  be  a  severe 
strain  to  her  finances  even  to  put  them  into  commission. 
I  am  of  opinion  that  the  order  to  build  them  was  given  as 
a  speculation  by  a  few  shrewd  men  in  the  Brazilian  Gov- 
ernment who  foresaw  unsettled  times  ahead,  and  they  are 
there  to  be  disposed  of  to  the  highest  European  or  Asiatic 
bidder!" 

I  saw  Ralph's  point  at  once. 

"By  Jove!"  I  exclaimed.  "You  think,  then,  that 
Delora  is  over  here  to  arrange  for  the  sale  of  them  to  some 
other  Government  —  presumably  to  China?" 

"Why  not ?"  Ralph  asked.  "It  is  feasible,  and  to  some 
extent  it  explains  a  good  deal  of  what  has  seemed  to  you  so 
mysterious.  There  could  be  no  more  possible  purchaser 
of  the  battleships  than  China,  except,  perhaps,  Russia, 
and  transactions  of  that  sort  are  always  attended  with  a 
large  amount  of  secrecy." 

"Of  course,  if  you  are  on  the  right  track,"  I  admitted, 
"everything  is  explained,  and  Delora  is  justified.  There 
is  just  one  thing  which  I  do  not  understand,  and  that  is 
why  he  should  have  associated  with  such  a  pack  of  thieves 
as  the  people  at  the  Cafe  des  Deux  Epingles,  and  why  he 
should  be  forced  to  make  an  ally  —  I  had  almost  said  ac- 
complice —  of  Louis." 

"Well,  you  can't  understand  everything  all  at  once,'* 
Ralph  answered.  "At  the  same  time,  if  I  were  you,  I 


256  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

would  try  and  see  if  the  hint  I  have  given  you  fits  in  with 
the  rest  of  the  puzzle." 

"I'll  get  the  truth  out  of  Delora  to-night !"  I  declared. 
"And,  Ralph!" 

"Well?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  asked  Felicia  Delora  to  many  me,"  I  continued. 

Ralph  looked  at  me  for  a  moment,  doubtfully. 

"Would  n't  it  have  been  better  to  have  had  this  matter 
cleared  up  first?"  he  asked. 

"I  couldn't  help  it,"  I  answered.  "The  child  is  all 
alone,  and  it  makes  my  heart  ache  to  think  what  a  poor 
little  pawn  she  is  in  the  game  these  men  are  playing. 
I'd  like  to  take  her  right  away  from  it,  Ralph,  but  she 
is  staunch.  She  fancies  that  she  is  indebted  to  her  uncle, 
and  she  will  obey  his  orders." 

"You  can't  think  any  the  worse  of  her  for  that,"  Ralph 
remarked. 

"I  don't,"  I  answered,  sighing,  "but  it  makes  the  posi- 
tion a  little  difficult." 

"Come  and  see  me  to-morrow  morning,"  Ralph  said, 
"  and  tell  me  exactly  what  passes  between  you  and  Delora. 
We  must  cable  Dicky  some  time  soon." 

"I  will,"  I  promised,  taking  up  my  hat.  "Good-day, 
Ralph!" 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

A   NARROW  ESCAPE 

I  FELT  that  night  an  unusual  desire  to  take  all  possible 
precautions  before  leaving  the  Milan  for  Bermondsey.  I 
wrote  a  letter  explaining  my  visit  and  my  suspicions,  and 
placed  it  in  Ashley's  hands. 

"Look  here,  Ashley,"  I  said,  "I  am  going  off  on  an 
errand  which  I  don't  feel  quite  comfortable  about.  Be- 
tween you  and  me,  it  is  connected  with  the  disappearance 
of  Miss  Delora's  uncle.  I  feel  that  it  is  likely,  even  prob- 
able, that  I  shall  get  into  trouble,  and  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  this.  If  I  am  not  back  here  by  half-past 
eleven,  I  want  you  to  take  this  letter,  which  contains  a  full 
statement  of  everything,  to  Scotland  Yard.  Either  take 
it  yourself,"  I  continued,  "or  send  some  one  absolutely 
trustworthy  with  it." 

The  man  looked  a  little  serious. 

"Very  good,  sir,"  he  said.  "I  '11  attend  to  it.  At  the 
same  time,  if  I  might  make  the  suggestion,  I  should  take 
a  couple  of  plain-clothes  policemen  with  me.  It 's  a 
pretty  low  part  where  you  are  going,  and  one  hears  of 
queer  doings,  nowadays." 

"I  am  bound  to  go,  Ashley,"  I  answered,  "but  I  am  not 
likely  to  come  to  much  grief.  I  have  a  revolver  in  my 
pocket,  and  I  have  not  studied  boxing  with  Baxter  for 
nothing.  I  don't  fancy  there  's  anything  in  Bermondsey 
going  to  hurt  me." 


258  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"I  hope  not,  sir,"  Ashley  answered  civilly.  "At  half- 
past  eleven,  if  I  do  not  hear  from  you,  I  shall  go  myself  to 
Scotland  Yard." 

I  nodded. 

"And  in  the  meantime,"  I  said,  "a  taxicab,  if  you 
please." 

I  drove  to  the  address  given  me  on  the  paper.  It  was 
an  odd,  half-forgotten  street,  terminating  in  a  cul-dc-sac, 
and  not  far  from  the  river.  The  few  houses  it  contained 
were  larger  than  the  majority  of  those  in  the  neighborhood, 
but  were  in  a  shocking  state  of  repair.  The  one  at 
which  I  eventually  stopped  had  a  timber  yard  adjoining, 
or  rather  attached  to  it.  I  left  the  taxicab  outside,  and 
made  my  somewhat  uncertain  way  up  to  the  front  door. 
Only  a  few  yards  from  me  a  great  black  dog  was  strain- 
ing at  his  collar  and  barking  furiously.  I  was  some- 
what relieved  when  the  door  was  opened  immediately  at 
my  knock. 

"Is  Mr.  Hoffmeyer  staying  here?"  I  asked. 

A  little  old  man  carrying  a  tallow  candle  stuck  into  a 
cheap  candlestick  nodded  assent,  and  closed  the  door 
after  me.  I  noticed,  without  any  particular  pleasure,  that 
he  also  drew  the  bolts. 

"What  do  you  do  that  for  ? "  I  asked  sharply.  " I  shall 
only  be  here  a  few  minutes.  It  is  not  worth  while  lock- 
ing up." 

The  man  looked  at  me  but  said  nothing.  He  seemed 
to  show  neither  any  desire  nor  any  ability  for  speech. 
Only  as  I  repeated  my  question  he  nodded  slowly  as  one 
who  barely  understands. 

»  "Mr.  Hoffmeyer  is  in  his  room,"  he  said.    "He  will  be 
glad  to  see  you." 

I  followed  him  along  as  miserable  a  passage  as  ever  I 


A    NARROW    ESCAPE  259 

saw  in  my  life.  The  walls  were  damp,  and  the  paper 
hung  down  here  and  there  in  long,  untidy  patches.  The 
ceiling  was  barely  whitewashed;  the  stairs  by  which  we 
passed  were  uncarpeted.  The  whole  place  had  a  most 
dejected  and  weary  appearance.  Then  he  showed  me  into 
a  small  sitting-room,  in  which  one  man  sat  writing  at  a 
table.  He  looked  up  as  I  entered.  It  was  Delora. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "so  this  is  how  you  keep  your  promise  ! " 

"Something  has  happened  since  then,"  I  answered.  "I 
have  received  a  cable  from  my  brother  which  we  do  not 
understand." 

"A  cable  from  your  brother  in  Brazil?"  he  asked 
slowly. 

"Yes!"  I  answered. 

Delora  turned  slowly  in  his  chair  and  rose  to  his  feet. 
He  was  tall  and  gaunt.  His  face  was  lined.  He  had 
somehow  or  other  the  appearance  of  a  man  who  is  driven 
to  bay.  Yet  there  was  something  splendid  about  the  way 
he  nerved  himself  to  listen  to  me  with  indifference. 

"What  does  he  say  —  your  brother?" 

"The  cable  is  inspired  by  Nicholas  Delora,"  I  answered. 
"Listen,  and  I  will  read  it  to  you." 

I  read  it  to  him  word  by  word.  When  I  had  finished 
he  simply  nodded. 

"Is  that  all?"  he  asked. 

"That  is  all,"  I  answered.  "You  will  see  that  what 
makes  your  brother  anxious  is  that  not  only  have  you 
failed  to  keep  your  word  so  far  as  regards  communicating 
with  him,  but  you  have  not  made  use  of  a  certain  private 
code  arranged  between  you." 

"The  business  upon  which  I  am  engaged,"  Delora 
said  calmly,  "is  of  great  importance,  but  I  do  not  care 
to  be  rushing  all  the  time  to  the  telegraph  office.  Nicholas 


260  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

is  a  nervous  person.  In  a  case  like  this  he  should  be 
content  to  wait.  However,  since  he  has  sought  the  inter- 
ference of  outsiders,  I  will  cable  him  to-morrow  morning." 

"Very  well,"  I  answered.  "I  can  ask  no  more  than 
that.  I  shall  go  myself  to  the  cable  office  and  send  my 
brother  a  message." 

"What  shall  you  tell  him?"  Delora  asked. 

"I  shall  tell  him  that  I  have  seen  you,"  I  answered, 
"that  you  are  well,  and  that  he  will  hear  from  you  to- 
morrow morning." 

"  Why  cable  at  all  ?"  Delora  asked.  "  Surely  to-morrow 
morning  will  be  soon  enough?" 

"From  your  point  of  view,  yes!"  I  said.  "But  there 
is  one  other  thing  which  I  am  going  to  do.  I  am  going  to 
say  in  my  cable,  that  if  the  news  he  receives  from  you  to- 
morrow morning  is  not  satisfactory,  I  shall  lay  the  matter 
before  the  Brazilian  legation  here,  and  I  shall  explain 
why!" 

Delora's  eyes  were  like  points  of  fire.  Nevertheless,  his 
self-restraint  was  admirable.  He  contented  himself, 
indeed,  with  a  low  bow. 

"You  will  tell  our  friends  there,"  he  said  slowly,  "that 
you  have  seen  me  ?  That  I  am  —  you  see  I  admit  that  — 
living  practically  in  hiding,  apart  from  my  niece?  You 
will  also,  perhaps,  inform  them  of  various  other  little 
episodes  with  which,  owing  to  your  unfortunate  habit  of 
looking  into  other  people's  business,  you  have  become 
acquainted?" 

"Naturally,"  I  answered. 

"I  think  not!"  Delora  said. 

There  was  an  instant's  silence.  I  looked  at  Delora  and 
wondered  what  he  meant.  He  looked  at  me  as  a  man 
looks  at  his  enemy. 


A    NARROW    ESCAPE  261 

"May  I  ask  how  you  intend  to  prevent  me  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"Easily!"  he  answered,  with  a  slight  sneer.  "There 
are  four  men  in  this  house  who  will  obey  my  bidding. 
There  are  also  five  modes  of  exit,  two  of  which  lead  into 
the  river." 

"I  congratulate  you,"  I  said,  "upon  the  possession  of 
such  a  unique  lodging-house." 

Delora  sighed. 

"I  can  assure  you,"  he  said,  "that  it  is  more  expensive 
than  the  finest  suite  in  the  Milan.  Still,  what  would  you 
have?  When  one  has  friends  who  are  too  curious,  one 
must  receive  them  in  a  fitting  lodging." 

"You  are  a  very  brave  man,  Mr.  Delora,"  I  said. 

"Indeed!"  he  answered  dryly.  "  I  should  have  thought 
that  the  bravery  had  lain  in  another  direction  !" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I,"  I  said,  "am,  I  fear,  a  coward.  Even  when  to-night 
I  started  out  to  keep  my  appointment  with  you  I  had 
fears.  I  was  so  afraid,"  I  continued,  "that  I  even  went  so 
far  as  to  insure  my  safety." 

"To  insure  your  safety  !"  he  repeated  softly,  like  a  man 
who  repeats  words  of  whose  significance  he  is  not  assured. 

"I  admit  it,"  I  answered.  "It  was  cowardly,  and,  I 
am  sure,  unnecessary.  But  I  did  it." 

His  face  darkened  with  anger 

"You  have  brought  an  escort  with  you,  perhaps?"  he 
said.  "You  have  the  police  outside ?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"Nothing  so  clumsy,"  I  answered.  "There  is  just  my 
taxicab,  which  won't  go  away  unless  it  is  I  who  says  to 
go,  and  a  little  note  I  left  with  the  hall-porter  of  the 
Milan,  to  be  opened  in  case  I  was  not  back  in  an  hour 
and  a  half.  You  see,"  I  continued,  apologetically,  "my 


262  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

nerve  has  been  a  little  shaken  lately,  and  I  did  not  know 
the  neighborhood." 

"You  are  discretion  itself,"  Delora  said.  "Some  day 
I  will  remember  this  as  a  joke  against  you.  Have  you 
been  reading  Gaboriau,  my  young  friend,  or  his  English 
disciples  ?  This  is  your  own  city  —  London  —  the  most 
law-abiding  place  on  God's  earth." 

"I  know  it,"  I  answered,  "and  yet  a  place  is  so  much 
what  the  people  who  live  in  it  may  make  it.  I  must  con- 
fess that  your  five  exits,  two  on  to  the  river,  would  have 
given  me  a  little  shiver  if  I  had  not  known  for  certain 
that  I  had  made  my  visit  to  you  safe." 

Delora  tried  to  smile.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  could  see 
that  the  man  was  shaking  with  fury. 

"You  are  a  strange  person,  Captain  Rotherby,"  he 
said.  "If  I  had  not  seen  you  bear  yourself  as  a  man  of 
courage  I  should  have  been  tempted  to  congratulate  your 
army  upon  its  freedom  from  your  active  services.  You 
have  no  more  to  say  to  me?" 

"Nothing  more,"  I  answered. 

"To-morrow  morning  at  eleven  o'clock,"  Delora  said, 
"you  will  be  arrested  for  the  attempted  murder  of  Stephen 
Tapilow." 

"It  is  exceedingly  kind  of  you,"  I  answered,  "to  give 
me  this  warning.  I  will  make  my  arrangements  accord- 
ingly." 

"One  thing,"  Delora  said,  "would  change  the  course  of 
Fate." 

"That  one  thing,"  I  remarked,  "being  that  I  should  not 
send  this  cablegram." 

"Exactly!"  Delora  answered,  "in  which  case  you 
will  find  your  banking  account  the  richer  by  ten  thousand 
pounds." 


A    NARROW    ESCAPE  263 

I  looked  at  him  steadfastly. 

"What  manner  of  a  swindle  is  this,"  I  asked,  "in  which 
you,  Louis,  poor  Bartot,  the  Chinese  ambassador,  and 
Heaven  knows  how  many  more,  are  concerned  ? " 

"You  are  an  ignorant  person  to  use  such  words!" 
Delora  replied. 

"Tell  me,  at  least,"  I  begged,  "whether  your  niece  is 
implicated  in  this?" 

"Why  do  you  ask?"  Delora  exclaimed. 

"Because  I  want  to  marry  her,"  I  answered. 

"Do  nothing  until  the  day  after  to-morrow,  Captain 
Rotherby,  and  you  shall  marry  her  and  have  a  dowry  of 
fifty  thousand  pounds,  besides  what  her  Uncle  Nicholas 
will  leave  her." 

"You  overwhelm  me !"  I  answered,  turning  toward  the 
door. 

He  made  no  movement  to  arrest  my  departure.  Sud- 
denly I  turned  towards  him.  Why  should  I  not  give  him 
the  benefit  of  this  one  chance  ! 

"Delora,"  I  said,  "from  the  moment  when  you  disap- 
peared from  Charing  Cross  I  have  had  but  one  idea  con- 
cerning you,  and  that  is  that  you  are  engaged  in  some 
nefarious  if  not  criminal  undertaking.  I  believe  so  at  this 
minute.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is,  of  course,  the  chance 
that  you  may  be,  as  you  say,  engaged  in  carrying  out  some 
enterprise,  political  or  otherwise,  which  necessitates  these 
mysterious  doings  on  your  part.  I  have  no  wish  to  be  your 
enemy,  or  to  interfere  in  any  legitimate  operation.  If  you 
care  to  take  me  into  your  confidence  you  will  not  find  me 
unreasonable." 

Delora  bowed.  I  caught  the  gleam  of  his  white  teeth 
underneath  his  black  moustache.  I  knew  that  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  fight. 


264  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "I  am  much  obliged  for 
your  offer,  but  I  am  not  in  need  of  allies.  Send  your  cable 
as  soon  as  you  will.  You  will  only  make  a  little  mischief 
of  which  you  will  afterwards  be  ashamed." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders  and  turned  away.  No  one 
came  to  let  me  out,  but  I  undid  the  bolts  myself,  and 
stepped  into  my  taxicab  with  a  little  breath  of  relief. 
Somehow  or  other  I  felt  as  though  I  had  escaped  from  a 
danger  which  I  could  not  define,  and  yet  which  I  had  felt 
with  every  breath  I  had  drawn  in  that  damp,  unwhole- 
some-looking house ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

AN  ABORTIVE   ATTEMPT 

IMMEDIATELY  I  arrived  at  my  brother's  hotel  I  rang  up  the 
hall-porter  of  the  Milan  and  informed  him  of  my  where- 
abouts. Afterwards  Ralph  and  I  between  us  concocted 
a  cable  to  Dicky,  for  which  I  was  thankful  that  I  had  not 
to  pay.  I  had  now  taken  Ralph  into  my  entire  confidence, 
and  I  found  that  he  took  very  much  the  same  view  of 
Delora's  behavior  as  I  did.  This  is  what  we  said,  — 

Have  seen  Delora.  Behavior  very  mysterious.  Is  living  apart 
from  niece  in  secrecy.  Seen  several  times  with  Chinese  am- 
bassador. Offered  me  large  bribe  refrain  cabling  you  till 
Thursday.  Fear  something  wrong. 

"Do  you  think  that  you  could  give  me  a  bed  here  to- 
night, Ralph?"  I  asked. 

"By  all  means,  old  fellow,"  my  brother  answered.  "To 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  think  you  are  better  here  than  at  the 
Milan.  You  can  have  the  rooms  you  had  the  other 
night." 

I  had  had  a  tiring  day,  and  I  dropped  off  to  sleep  almost 
as  soon  as  my  head  touched  the  pillow.  I  was  awakened 
by  the  sound  of  the  telephone  bell  close  to  my  head.  I  had 
no  idea  as  to  the  time,  but  from  the  silence  everywhere  I 
judged  that  I  had  been  asleep  for  several  hours.  I  took  up 
the  receiver  and  held  it  to  my  ear. 

"Hullo!"  I  exclaimed. 

"Is  that  Captain  Rotherby?"   a  familiar  voice  asked. 


266  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Yes  !"   I  said.     "That 's  Ashley,  is  n't  it?" 

"Yes,  sir!"  the  man  answered.  "I  am  on  night  duty 
here.  Will  you  excuse  my  asking  you,  sir,  if  you  have 
lent  your  room  to  any  one?" 

" Certainly  not ! "  I  replied.     "Why  ? " 

"It 's  a  very  odd  thing,  sir,"  he  continued.  "A  person 
arrived  here  with  a  small  bag  a  little  time  ago  and  pre- 
sented your  card,  —  said  that  you  had  given  him  permis- 
sion to  sleep  in  your  room.  I  let  him  go  up,  but  I  did  n't 
feel  altogether  comfortable  about  it,  so  I  took  the  liberty 
of  ringing  up  Clariclge's  to  see  if  you  were  there.  I  thought 
that  as  you  were  here  this  evening,  you  would  have  told 
us  if  you  had  proposed  lending  it." 

"You  are  quite  right,  Ashley,"  I  declared.  "I  have 
lent  the  room  to  no  one.  You  had  better  go  and  see  who 
it  is  at  once.  Shall  I  come  round  ?" 

"I  will  ring  you  up  again,  sir,"  the  man  answered,  "as 
soon  as  I  have  been  upstairs." 

"By  the  bye,"  I  asked,  "he  did  n't  look  like  a  French- 
man, did  he?" 

"I  could  not  say  so,"  Ashley  replied.  "I  will  ring  you 
up  in  a  few  minutes.  I  shall  go  up  and  inquire  into  this 
myself." 

I  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  waiting.  In  less  than  ten 
minutes  the  telephone  bell  rang  again.  Once  more  I 
heard  Ashley's  voice. 

"I  am  ringing  up  from  your  sitting-room,  sir,"  he  said. 
"There  is  no  one  here  at  all,  but  the  room  has  been  opened. 
So  far  as  I  can  see,  nothing  has  been  taken,  but  a  bottle  of 
chloroform  has  been  dropped  and  broken  upon  the  floor 
in  your  bedroom,  and  I  have  a  strong  idea  that  some  one 
left  the  room  by  the  other  door  as  I  entered  the  sitting- 
room." 


AN    ABORTIVE    ATTEMPT  267 

"I  '11  come  along  at  once,  Ashley,"  I  said,  —  "that  is, 
as  soon  as  I  can  get  dressed." 

"I  was  wondering,  sir,"  was  the  quiet  reply,  "whether 
I  would  advise  you  to  do  so.  I  did  not  like  the  look  of 
the  man  who  came,  and  I  am  afraid  he  was  not  up  to  any 
good  here.  He  is  somewhere  in  the  hotel  now." 

"You  say  that  nothing  has  been  disturbed  ?"   I  asked. 

"Nothing  at  all,  sir.  "It  wasn't  for  robbery  he 
came !" 

"I  think  I  can  guess  what  he  wanted,  Ashley,"  said  I. 
"Perhaps  you  are  right.  I  won't  come  round  till  the 
morning." 

"If  anything  fresh  happens,  sir,  I  will  let  you  know," 
the  man  said.  "Good  night,  sir!" 

"Good  night,  Ashley!"  I  answered. 

I  got  back  into  bed,  but  I  did  not  immediately  fall  off 
to  sleep  again.  There  was  no  doubt  at  all  that  my  visitor 
had  come  at  the  instigation  of  Delora,  and  that  his  object 
had  been  to  prevent  my  sending  that  cable,  which  was 
already  on  its  way.  I  got  up  and  saw  that  my  door  was 
securely  fastened.  I  am  ashamed  to  confess  that  at  that 
moment  I  felt  a  tremor  of  fear !  I  no  longer  had  the 
slightest  doubt  that  Delora,  if  not  an  impostor,  was  en- 
gaged in  some  great  criminal  operation.  And  Felicia ! 
I  thought  of  the  matter  in  every  way.  It  was  impossible 
that  Delora  could  be  an  impostor  pure  and  simple.  Felicia 
was  content  to  travel  with  him.  She  knew  him  for  her 
uncle.  He  must  be  her  uncle,  unless  she  herself  had  de- 
ceived me !  I  felt  my  blood  run  cold  at  the  thought.  I 
flung  it  from  me.  I  would  have  no  more  of  it.  Felicia, 
at  least,  was  above  suspicion  !  Delora  had,  perhaps,  be'jn 
led  into  this  enterprise,  whatever  it  might  be,  by  Louis  and 
his  friends.  At  any  rate,  the  morrow  was  likely  to  clear 


268  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

things  up.  I  was  the  more  convinced  of  that  when  I 
remembered  that  it  was  one  day's  grace  only  that  Delora 
had  begged  of  me.  I  went  off  to  sleep  again  soon,  and 
only  woke  when  my  brother's  servant  called  me  for  my 
bath.  At  half-past  ten,  after  a  consultation  with  my 
brother,  I  drove  to  the  Brazilian  Embassy.  I  sent  in 
my  card,  and  asked  to  see  Mr.  Lamartine.  He  came  to 
me  in  a  few  minutes. 

"Captain  Rotherby!"  he  exclaimed,  holding  out  his 
hand.  "You  have  some  news?" 

"I  am  not  sure  whether  you  will  call  it  news,"  I  an- 
swered. "I  came  to  see  you  about  this  man  Delora." 

"Sit  down,"  Lamartine  said.  "I  only  wish  that  you 
had  given  me  all  your  confidence  the  other  day." 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  not  sure  whether  I  have  any 
to  give  now,"  I  answered.  "There  are  just  one  or  two 
facts  wrhich  seem  to  me  so  peculiar  that  I  decided  to  look 
you  up." 

"I  am  very  glad  indeed  to  see  you,  Captain  Rotherby," 
Lamartine  said.  "Something  is  happening  in  connection 
with  this  person  which  I  am  afraid  may  lead  to  very  serious 
trouble.  I  know  now  more  than  I  did  when  I  hung  around 
you  and  Miss  Delora  at  Charing  Cross  Station,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  day  I  hope  to  know  more." 

"I  should  have  washed  my  hands  of  the  whole  affair," 
I  told  him,  "before  now,  but  from  the  fact  that  I  have  re- 
ceived a  cable  from  my  brother,  who  is  in  Rio,  concerning 
these  very  people.  He  had  first  of  all,  in  a  letter,  asked 
me  to  be  civil  and  to  look  them  up.  His  cable  begged 
me,  on  behalf  of  an  elder  brother  out  there,  to  look  after 
Delora,  find  out  what  he  was  doing,  and  report.  I  gathered 
that  he  was  over  here  on  some  special  mission,  as  to  the 
progress  of  which  he  should  have  made  reports  to  his 


AN    ABORTIVE    ATTEMPT  269 

brother  in  Brazil.  He  has  not  done  so,  nor  has  he  used  the 
private  code  agreed  upon  between  those  two." 

"This  is  very  interesting,"  Lamartine  said,  —  "very 
interesting  indeed ! " 

"I  came  to  you,"  I  said,  "because,  since  the  receipt  of 
this  cable,  I  have  convinced  myself  that  Delora  is  en- 
gaged in  some  sort  of  underground  work  the  crisis  of  which 
must  be  very  close  at  hand.  I  found  him  last  night  in  a 
miserable,  deserted  sort  of  building  down  near  the  river  in 
Bermondsey.  He  offered  me  ten  thousand  pounds  not  to 
reply  to  his  brother's  cable.  I  think  that  he  would  have 
done  his  best  to  have  detained  me  there  but  for  the  fact 
that  I  had  taken  precautions  before  I  started." 

"Have  you  any  idea,"  Lamartine  asked,  "what  the 
nature  of  this  underground  business  is?" 

"I  cannot  imagine,"  I  answered.  "In  some  way  it 
seems  to  me  that  it  is  connected  with  the  Chinese  am- 
bassador, because  I  have  seen  them  several  times  together. 
That,  however,  is  only  surmise.  I  can  give  you  one  more 
piece  of  information,"  I  added,  "and  that  is  that  the 
Chinese  ambassador  and  Delora  have  recently  visited 
Newcastle." 

Lamartine  smiled. 

"I  know  everything  except  one  thing,"  he  said,  "and 
that  we  shall  both  of  us  know  before  the  day  is  out.  Our 
friend  Delora  has  played  a  great  game.  Even  now  I 
cannot  tell  you  whether  he  has  played  to  win  or  to  lose. 
Since  you  have  been  so  kind  as  to  look  me  up,  Captain 
Rotherby,"  he  went  on,  "let  us  spend  a  little  time  together. 
Do  me,  for  instance,  the  honor  to  lunch  with  me  at  the 
Milan  at  one  o'clock." 

"With  Louis?"   I  asked  grimly. 

"I  do  not  think  that  Louis  will  hurt  us,"  Lamartine 


270  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

answered.  "There  is  just  a  chance,  even,  that  we  may 
not  find  him  on  duty  to-day." 

"I  will  lunch  with  you  with  pleasure,"  I  said,  "but 
there  is  one  thing  which  I  must  do  first." 

Lamartine  looked  at  me  narrowly. 

"You  want  to  see  Miss  Delora  ?"  he  asked. 

It  was  foolish  to  be  offended.     I  admitted  the  fact. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "it  is  natural.  Miss  Delora  is  a  very 
charming  young  lady,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  she  believes 
in  her  uncle.  At  the  same  time,  I  am  not  sure,  Captain 
Rotherby,  that  the  neighborhood  of  the  Milan  is  very  safe 
for  you  just  now." 

"At  this  hour  of  the  morning,"  I  said,  "one  should  be 
able  to  protect  one's  self." 

"It  is  true,"  Lamartine  answered.  "Tell  me,  Captain 
Rotherby,  at  what  hour  did  you  send  that  cable  last  night  ?" 

"At  midnight,"  I  answered. 

Lamartine  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"Soon,"  he  said,  "we  shall  have  an  official  cable  here, 
and  then  things  will  be  interesting.  Shall  we  meet,  then, 
at  the  Milan?" 

"Precisely,"  I  answered.  "You  don't  feel  inclined,"  I 
added,  "to  be  a  little  more  candid  with  me?  My  head 
has  ached  for  a  good  many  days  over  this  business." 

"A  few  hours  longer  won't  hurt  you,"  Lamartine 
answered,  laughing.  "I  can  promise  you  that  it  will  be 
worth  waiting  for." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

DELORA   RETURNS 

AT  a  few  minutes  before  twelve  1  entered  the  Milan  by  the 
Court  entrance,  and  received  at  once  some  astonishing 
news.  Ashley,  who  came  out  to  meet  me,  drew  me  at  once 
upon  one  side  with  a  little  gesture  of  apology. 

"Mr.  Delora  has  returned,  sir,"  he  said. 

For  the  moment  I  had  forgotten  the  sensation  which 
Delora's  non-arrival  on  that  first  evening  had  made,  and 
which  had  always  left  behind  it  a  flavor  of  mystery.  I 
could  see  from  Ashley's  face  that  he  was  puzzled. 

"Is  Mr.  Delora  with  his  niece?"    I  asked. 

"They  have  moved  into  Number  35,  sir,"  Ashley  told 
me.  "Mr.  Delora  complained  very  much  of  his  rooms, 
said  they  were  too  small,  and  threatened  to  move  to  Cla- 
ridge's.  Number  35  is  the  best  suite  we  have." 

I  stood,  for  a  moment,  thinking.  Ashley,  meanwhile, 
had  retreated  to  his  place  behind  the  counter.  I  approached 
him  slowly. 

"Ashley,"  I  said,  "ring  up  and  tell  Mr.  Delora  that  I 
have  called." 

Ashley  went  at  once  to  the  telephone. 

"Don't  be  surprised,"  I  said,  "if  his  reply  is  n't  exactly 
polite.  I  don't  think  he  is  very  w^ell  pleased  with  me  just 
now." 

I  strolled  away  for  a  few  minutes  to  look  into  the  cafe, 
where  the  waiters  were  preparing  for  luncheon.  There 
was  no  sign  of  Louis.  When  I  returned,  Ashley  leaned 
forward  to  me  from  the  other  side  of  the  desk. 


272  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

"Mr.  Delora  wishes  you  to  step  up,  sir,"  he  said. 

I  was  a  little  surprised,  but  I  moved  promptly  to  the  lift. 

"On  the  third  floor,  isn't  it?"  I  asked. 

"Exactly,  sir,"  Ashley  answered.  "Shall  I  send  a  page 
with  you  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  can  find  it  all  right,"  I  said. 

My  knock  at  the  door  was  answered  by  a  dark-faced 
valet.  He  ushered  me  into  a  large  and  very  handsome 
sitting-room.  Felicia  and  Delora  were  standing  talking 
together  near  the  mantelpiece.  They  both  ceased  at  my 
entrance,  but  I  had  an  instinctive  feeling  that  I  had  been 
the  subject  of  their  conversation.  Felicia  greeted  me 
timidly.  There  were  signs  of  tears  in  her  face,  and  I  felt 
that  by  some  means  or  other  this  man  had  been  able  to 
reassert  his  influence  over  her.  Delora  himself  was  a 
changed  being.  He  was  dressed  with  the  almost  painful 
exactness  of  the  French  man  of  fashion.  His  slight  black 
imperial  was  trimmed  to  a  point,  his  moustache  upturned 
with  a  distinctly  foreign  air.  He  wore  a  wonderful  pin  in 
his  carefully  arranged  tie,  and  a  tiny  piece  of  red  ribbon  in 
his  button-hole.  The  manicurist  whom  I  had  met  in  the 
passage  had  evidently  just  left  him,  for  as  I  entered  he  was 
regarding  his  nails  thoughtfully.  He  did  not  offer  me  his 
hand.  He  stared  at  me  instead  with  a  certain  restrained 
insolence. 

"I  should  be  glad  to  know,  Captain  Rotherby,*  he  said 
calmly,  "to  what  I  owe  this  intrusion?" 

"I  am  sorry  that  you  look  upon  it  in  that  light,  sir,"  I 
answered.  "My  visit,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  was  in  tended 
for  your  niece." 

She  took  a  step  towards  me,  but  Delora's  outstretched 
arm  barred  her  progress. 


DELORA    RETURNS  273 

"My  niece  is  very  much  honored,"  he  answered,  "but 
her  friends  and  her  acquaintances  are  mine.  You  were  so 
good  as  to  render  me  some  service  on  our  arrival  at  Charing 
Cross  a  few  days  ago,  but  you  have  since  then  presumed 
upon  that  service  to  an  unwarrantable  extent." 

"I  am  sorry  that  you  should  think  so,"  I  answered. 

"I  did  not  know,"  Delora  continued,  "that  the  young 
men  of  your  country  had  time  enough  to  spare  to  devote 
themselves  to  other  people's  business  in  the  way  that  you 
have  done.  I  came  to  this  country  upon  a  peculiar  and 
complicated  mission,  intrusted  to  me  by  my  own  govern- 
ment. The  chief  condition  of  success  was  that  it  should  be 
performed  in  secrecy.  You  were  only  a  chance  acquaint- 
ance, and  how  on  earth  you  should  have  had  the  imper- 
tinence to  associate  yourself  with  my  doings  I  cannot 
imagine !  But  the  fact  remains  that  you  made  my  task 
more  difficult,  and,  in  fact,  at  one  time  seriously  endangered 
its  success.  Not  only  that,"  Delora  continued,  "but  you 
have  chosen  to  ally  yourself  with  those  whose  object  it  has 
been  to  wreck  my  undertaking.  Yet,  with  the  full  knowl- 
edge of  these  things,  you  have  had  the  supreme  impudence 
to  force  your  company  upon  my  niece,  —  even,  I  under- 
stand, to  pay  her  your  addresses  !" 

"The  dowry  of  fifty  thousand  pounds,"  I  began,  — 

He  stretched  out  his  hand  with  a  commanding  air. 

"We  will  not  allude  to  that,  sir,"  he  declared.  "  I  was 
forced  to  make  an  attempt  to  bribe  you,  I  admit,  but  it  was 
under  very  difficult  circumstances.  As  it  is,  I  am  only 
thankful  that  you  dec-lined  my  offer.  I  have  arranged 
matters  so  that  your  cable  shall  do  me  no  harm.  It  has 
precipitated  matters  by  twenty-four  hours,  but  that  is  no 
one's  loss  and  my  gain.  When  I  heard  your  name  sent  up 
I  could  scarcely  believe  my  ears,  but  since  you  are  here, 


274  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

since  you  have  ventured  to  pay  this  call,  I  wish  to  inform 
you,  on  behalf  of  my  niece  and  myself,  that  we  consider 
your  further  acquaintance  undesirable  in  the  extreme." 

The  man's  deportment  was  magnificent.  But  for  the 
fact  that  I  had  long  ago  lost  all  faith  in  him  I  should  have 
felt,  without  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  that  I  had  made  a 
supreme  fool  of  myself.  But  as  it  was,  my  faith  was  only 
shaken.  The  hideous  possibility  that  I  had  made  a  mis- 
take was  there  like  a  shadow,  but  I  could  not  accept  it  as 
a  certainty. 

"Mr.  Delora,"  I  said,  "from  one  point  of  view  I  am 
very  glad  to  hear  you  speak  like  this.  If  I  have  been  mis- 
taken in  supposing  that  your  extraordinary  behavior  in 
London  — " 

"But  what  the  devil  has  my  extraordinary  behavior  got 
to  do  with  you  ?"  Delora  demanded,  with  the  first  note  of 
anger  in  his  tone  which  he  had  shown. 

"My  interest  was  for  your  niece,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"My  niece  does  not  require  your  protection  or  your 
interest,"  Delora  answered.  "It  seems  to  me  that  you 
have  chosen  a  queer  way  to  return  the  hospitality  which 
it  was  our  pleasure  to  extend  to  your  brother  in  Brazil. 
I  have  still  a  busy  morning,  sir,  and  I  have  seen  you  for  this 
one  reason  only:  to  have  you  clearly  understand  that  we 
—  my  niece  and  I  —  do  not  find  your  further  acquaintance 
desirable." 

She  made  another  little  movement  towards  me,  and  by 
doing  so  came  into  the  light.  I  saw  that  her  eyes  were  red 
with  weeping,  and  notwithstanding  an  angry  exclamation 
from  Delora  she  held  out  her  hands  to  me. 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  "I  believe,  I  do,  indeed, 
that  you  have  acted  out  of  kindness  to  me.  My  uncle,  as 
you  see,  is  very  angry.  What  he  has  said  has  not  been 


I   RAISED   HER   FINGERS  TO   MY  LIPS,   AND  SMILED   INTO  HER   FACE. 

Page  275 


DELORA    RETURNS  275 

from  my  heart,  but  from  his.  Yet,  as  you  know,  I  must 
obey!" 

I  raised  her  fingers  to  my  lips,  and  I  smiled  into  her 
face. 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "do  not  be  afraid.  This  is  not  the 
end!" 

Delora  turned  to  the  servant  whom  he  had  summoned. 

"Show  this  gentleman  out,  Francois,"  he  said  coldly. 

Lamartine  was  a  few  minutes  late.  He  drove  up  in  a 
large  motor-car  with  an  elderly  gentleman,  who  remained 
inside,  and  with  whom  he  talked  for  a  few  minutes  earnestly 
before  he  joined  me. 

"You  forgive  me  ?"  he  asked,  as  he  handed  his  hat  and 
stick  to  an  attendant.  "The  chief  kept  me  talking.  He 
brought  me  down  here  himself." 

I  nodded. 

"It  is  of  no  consequence,"  I  said.  "I  have  some  news 
for  you." 

"  Nothing,"  Lamartine  declared,  passing  his  arm  through 
mine,  "will  surprise  me." 

"Delora  is  here,"  I  said,  "with  his  niece!" 

Lamartine  stopped  short. 

"Under  his  own  name?"  he  asked.  "Do  you  mean 
that  he  has  thrown  off  all  disguise?  That  he  is  here  as 
Maurice  Delora?" 

"I  never  knew  his  Christian  name,"  I  answered, 
"but  he  is  here  as  Delora,  right  enough.  He  has  taken 
the  largest  suite  in  the  Court,  and  for  the  last  quarter 
of  an  hour  he  has  been  dressing  me  down  in  great 
shape." 

"He  is  magnificent!"  Lamartine  said  softly.  "If  he 
can  keep  it  up  for  twenty-four  hours  longer,  he  who  has 


276  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

been  a  beggar  practically  for  ten  years  will  be  worth  a 
great  fortune!" 

"So  that,"  I  remarked,  "was  the  stake  !" 

"A  worthy  one,  is  it  not  so,  my  friend?"  Lamartine 
declared. 

"  Does  he  win  ? "  I  asked. 

"Heaven  knows!"  Lamartine  answered.  "Even  now 
I  cannot  tell  you.  Unless  something  turns  up,  I  should  say 
that  it  was  very  likely." 

We  entered  the  cafe.  When  Louis  saw  us  arrive 
together  he  stood  for  a  moment  motionless  upon  the  floor. 
His  eyes  seemed  to  question  us  with  swift  and  fierce 
curiosity.  Had  we  arrived  together?  Was  this  a  chance 
meeting  ?  How  much  was  either  in  the  other's  confidence  ? 
These  things  and  many  others  he  seemed  to  ask.  Then 
he  came  slowly  towards  us.  A  ray  of  sunshine,  streaming 
through  the  glass  roof  of  the  courtyard  and  reflected  through 
the  window,  lay  across  the  floor  of  the  cafe.  As  Louis 
passed  over  it  I  saw  a  change  in  the  man.  Always  color- 
less, his  white  cheeks  were  graven  now  with  deep,  cob- 
webbed  lines.  His  eyes  seemed  to  have  receded  into  his 
head.  His  manner  lacked  that  touch  of  graceful  and  not 
unbecoming  confidenc  •>  which  one  had  grown  to  admire. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  messieurs  ?"  he  asked,  with  a 
little  bow.  "A  table  for  two  —  yes  ?  This  way." 

We  followed  him  to  a  small  table  in  the  best  part  of  the 
room. 

"Monsieur  had  good  sport  in  the  country?"  he  asked 
me. 

" Excellent,  Louis  !"  I  answered.  "How  are  things  in 
town?" 

Louis  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  glanced  around. 

"As  one  sees,"  he  answered,  "here  we  are  fortunate 


DELORA    RETURNS  277 

Here  we  are  always,  always  busy.  We  turn  people  away 
all  the  time,  because  we  prefer  to  serve  well  our  old 
customers." 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "you  are  wonderful !" 

"What  will  the  gentlemen  eat  ?"  Louis  asked. 

I  looked  at  Lamartine,  and  Lamartine  loc"^.  1  at  me. 
The  same  thought  was  in  the  minds  of  both  of  u^.  Curi- 
ously enough  we  felt  a  certain  delicacy  in  letting  Louis 
perceive  our  dilemma ! 

"Those  cold  grouse  look  excellent,"  Lamartine  said  to 
me,  pointing  to  the  sideboard. 

"Cold  grouse  are  very  good,"  Louis  assented.  "I  will 
have  one  specially  prepared  and  sent  up." 

Lamartine  shook  his  head. 

"Bring  over  the  dish  there,  and  let  us  look  at  them, 
Louis,"  he  said. 

Louis  obeyed  him.  There  was  no  alternative.  Lamar- 
tine, without  hesitation,  coolly  took  one  of  the  birds  on  to 
his  own  plate. 

"Our  luncheon  is  arranged  for,  Louis,"  he  said.  "Let 
a  waiter  bring  us  a  dish  and  carving-knife.  I  like  to  carve 
myself  at  the  table." 

"But  certainly!"  Louis  assented,  and,  calling  a  waiter, 
he  glided  away.  Lamartine  and  I  exchanged  glances. 

"I  fancy  we  are  pretty  safe  with  this  bird,"  he  remarked. 

"Absolutely,"  I  answered.  "He  never  had  the  ghost  of 
a  chance  to  tamper  with  it.  The  question  of  drinks  is  a 
little  difficult,"  I  continued. 

"And  I  am  very  thirsty,"  Lamartine  said.  "An  un- 
opened bottle  of  hock,  eh?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"No  good,"  I  answered.  "I  am  convinced  that  Louis 
has  a  cellar  of  his  own.  Did  you  notice  the  fellow,  by  the 


278  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

bye?"  I  went  on.  "He  shows  signs  of  the  worry  of  this 
thing.  Somehow  or  other  I  do  not  fancy  that  Louis  will 
be  in  this  place  a  week  from  to-day." 

"That  may  be,"  Lamartine  answered,  "but  I  must 
drink!" 

There  Vas  a  bottle  of  whiskey  upon  the  table  next  to  us, 
from  which  its  occupant  had  been  helping  himself.  He 
rose  now  to  go,  and  I  seized  the  opportunity  the  moment 
he  had  left,  and  before  the  waiter  could  clear  the  table  I 
had  secured  the  bottle. 

"We  won't  risk  soda-water,"  I  said.  "Whiskey  and 
water  is  good  enough." 

The  one  waiter  whom  I  disliked  —  a  creature  of  Louis', 
as  I  knew  well  —  came  hurrying  forward  and  endeavored 
to  possess  himself  of  the  bottle. 

"Let  me  get  you  another  bottle  of  whiskey,  sir,"  he  said. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"This  one  will  do,  thank  you,"  I  said. 

"Soda- water  or  Perrier,  sir?"   he  asked. 

"Neither,  thank  you,"  I  answered. 

The  man  moved  away,  and  I  saw  him  in  a  corner  talking 
to  Louis.  Lamartine  served  the  grouse,  and  leaned  across 
the  table  to  me. 

"Captain  Rotherby,"  he  said,  "I  think  I  will  tell  you 
now  why,  notwithstanding  the  risk  of  Monsieur  Louis,  I 
asked  you  to  lunch  with  me  here  at  this  restaurant.  But 
look  !  See  who  comes  ! " 

He  laid  his  fingers  upon  my  coat-sleeve.  I  turned  my 
head.  Felicia  was  sailing  down  the  room,  —  Felicia 
exquisitely  dressed  as  usual,  walking  with  a  soft  rustle  of 
lace,  —  delightful,  alluring ;  and  in  her  wake  Delora 
himself,  tall,  well-groomed,  aristocratic,  looking  around 
him  with  mild  but  slightly  bored  interest.  Louis  was 


DELORA    RETURNS  279 

piloting  them  to  a  table,  the  best  in  the  place.  We  watched 
them  seat  themselves.  Delora,  through  a  horn-rimmed 
eyeglass,  studied  the  menu.  Felicia,  drawing  off  her  gloves, 
looked  a  little  wearily  out  into  the  busy  courtyard.  So 
they  were  sitting  when  the  thing  happened  which  Lamar- 
tine,  I  believe,  had  expected,  but  which,  for  me,  was  the 
most  wonderful  thing  that  had  yet  come  to  pass  amongst 
this  tangle  of  strange  circumstances ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

AT   BAY 

THE  entrance  of  these  two  persons  into  the  room,  apart 
from  its  astonishing  significance  to  us,  seemed  to  excite 
a  certain  amount  of  interest  amongst  the  ordinary  throng. 
My  lady  of  the  turquoises  wore  a  dark-blue  closely  fitting 
gown,  which  only  a  Paris  tailor  could  have  cut,  a  large 
and  striking  hat,  and  a  great  bunch  of  red  roses  in  the 
front  of  her  dress.  But,  after  all,  it  was  upon  her  com- 
panion, not  upon  her,  that  our  regard  was  riveted.  He 
was  dressed  with  the  neat  exactitude  of  a  Frenchman  of 
fashion.  He  wore  a  red  ribbon  in  his  button-hole.  His 
white  hair  and  moustaches  were  perfectly  arranged.  He 
leaned  heavily  upon  a  stick,  and  he  had  the  appearance  of 
a  man  prematurely  aged,  as  though  by  an  illness  or  some 
great  suffering.  His  tone,  as  he  turned  to  his  companion, 
was  courteous  enough  but  querulous. 

"My  dear,"  he  said,  "this  place  is  full  of  draughts. 
We  must  find  a  table  over  there  by  the  palm." 

He  pointed  with  his  stick,  and  it  was  just  at  this  moment 
that  Louis,  rounding  the  corner  from  a  distant  part  of 
the  room,  came  face  to  face  with  them.  Once  before 
during  the  last  twenty-four  hours  I  had  been  struck  with 
the  pallor  of  Louis'  expression.  This  time  he  stood  quite 
still  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  as  though  he  had  seen  a 
ghost !  He  was  close  to  a  pillar,  and  I  saw  his  hand  sud- 
denly go  out  to  it  as  though  in  search  of  support.  His 
breath  was  coming  quickly.  From  where  I  sat  I  could  see 
the  little  beads  of  sweat  breaking  out  upon  his  forehead. 


AT    BAY  281 

"Monsieur!"  he  exclaimed. 

The  newcomer  turned  to  look  at  him.  For  a  moment 
he  seemed  puzzled.  It  was  as  though  some  old  memory 
were  striving  to  reassert  itself. 

"'My  man,"  he  said  to  Louis,  "surely  I  know  your 
face  ?  You  have  been  here  a  long  time,  have  n't  you  ?" 

"Ten  years,  sir,"  Louis  answered.    "Permit  me  !" 

He  gave  them  a  table  not  far  away  from  mine.  The 
memory  of  his  face  as  he  preceded  them  down  the  room 
never  left  me.  I  glanced  instinctively  towards  Delora. 
His  back  was  turned  towards  the  entrance  of  the  restau- 
rant, and  he  had  apparently  seen  nothing.  Felicia,  on 
the  contrary,  sat  as  though  she  were  turned  to  stone.  I 
saw  her  lean  over  and  whisper  to  her  companion.  A  little 
murmur  of  excitement  broke  from  my  companion's  lips. 

"This,"  he  murmured,  "is  amazing!  The  girl  is  a 
fool  to  bring  him  here.  She  must  know  that  Louis  is 
in  it!" 

"Who  is  the  man  ?"  I  asked. 

Lamartine  looked  at  me  with  a  curious  expression  in 
his  dark  eyes. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  cannot  guess?"  he 
asked. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"Only  that  he  must  be  some  relation  to  Delora,"  I 
declared.  "There  has  been  no  time,  though,  for  his 
brother  to  get  across  from  South  America." 

Lamartine  smiled. 

"You  are  dull,"  he  said.  "But  watch!  What  is  going 
to  happen  now,  I  wonder?" 

Delora  had  risen  to  his  feet.  He  had  the  look  of  a  man 
who  has  received  a  shock.  He  brushed  past  some  people 
who  were  taking  their  places  at  a  table  without  remark 


282  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

or  apology.  He  passed  my  companion  and  myself  without 
•even,  I  believe,  being  conscious  of  our  presence.  He 
walked  straight  to  the  table  where  the  two  newcomers 
sat.  I  saw  his  hand  fall  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  other 
man. 

"Ferdinand  !"  he  said. 

The  lady  of  the  turquoises  was  leaning  forward  in  her 
place  as  though  to  push  Delora  away.  A  few  feet  in  the 
background  Louis  was  hovering. 

"Ferdinand,"  I  heard  Delora  repeat,  "what  are  you 
doing  here  ?  Who  is  this  person  ?  You  know  that  you 
are  not  well  enough  to  travel." 

The  older  man  looked  at  him  with  a  slightly  puzzled 
air.  There  was  a  certain  vacuity  in  his  expression,  for 
which  one  found  it  hard  to  account. 

"You!"  he  murmured,  as  though  perplexed.  "Why, 
this  is  not  Paris,  Maurice!" 

Louis  had  glided  a  little  nearer  to  the  table.  My  lady 
of  the  turquoises  half  rose  to  her  feet.  Her  blue  eyes  were 
fierce  with  anger.  She  looked  as  though  she  would  have 
struck  Delora. 

"You  shall  not  take  him  away!"  she  cried.  "Don't 
have  anything  to  say  to  them!"  she  added,  bending 
downwards  to  her  companion.  "  You  are  not  safe  with 
any  one  else  except  me!" 

Delora  turned  towards  her  with  an  angry  exclamation. 

"Madame,"  he  said,  "this  gentleman  is  my  relation, 
and  he  is  ill.  He  is  certainly  not  in  a  condition  to  be 
travelling  about  the  country  with  —  with  you  !" 

Her  self-control  was  beginning  to  evaporate.  She  ad- 
dressed him  shrilly.  People  at  the  surrounding  tables 
were  beginning  to  observe  this  unusual  conversation. 

"What,  then?"    she  cried.     "Is  he  not  safer  with  me 


AT    BAY  283 

than  you  ?  How  about  Henri  —  Henri  who  came  over 
here  because  we  had  been  deceived,  he  and  I,  —  poor 
Henri  who  died?" 

"This,"  Delora  muttered,  "is  your  revenge,  then  !" 

"It  is  my  revenge,  and  I  mean  to  have  it,"  she  answered. 
"This  afternoon  you  will  see." 

Louis  advanced  and  bowed  to  the  man  who  still  sat 
at  the  table,  looking  a  little  puzzled,  and  with  his  eyes 
still  fixed  upon  Delora. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  "shall  I  serve  luncheon?" 

There  was  an  instant's  pause.  I  fancied  that  I  saw 
something  pass  between  Louis  and  Delora.  The  latter 
turned  away  with  a  little  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"Presently  w^ill  be  time,"  he  said.  "We  will  speak  to- 
gether, all  three  of  us,  before  you  leave." 

The  woman  struck  the  table  with  the  palm  of  her  hand. 

"There  is  nothing  which  you  need  say  !"  she  exclaimed. 
"It  is  finished,  this  fine  scheme  of  yours !  See,  he  is  here 
himself.  This  afternoon  we  go  to  warn  those  whom  you 
would  rob ! " 

Once  more  that  look  flashed  between  Louis  and  Delora, 
and  this  time  there  was  borne  in  upon  me  the  swift  con- 
sciousness of  what  it  might  mean.  Delora  returned  to 
his  place  opposite  Felicia.  I  bent  across  the  table  to 
Lamartine 

"Lamartine,"  I  said,  "there  was  a  man  who  came  here 
once  —  a  companion  of  that  woman  —  Bartot.  He  came 
to  make  trouble  with  Louis,  and  he  dined  here  once.  He 
dined  nowhere  else  on  earth  !" 

Lamartine  was  suddenly  grave. 

"Would  Louis  dare!"  he  muttered. 

"Why  not?"  I  answered.  "See,  Louis  is  watching 
us  even  now  ! " 


284  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

Lamartine  half  rose  from  his  seat.  I  pushed  him 
back. 

"No!"  I  said.  "  It  is  not  for  you !  It  is  I  who  will 
arrange  this  thing." 

I  left  my  place  and  walked  towards  the  table  where 
the  two  were  sitting.  I  saw  Delora  lay  down  his  knife 
and  fork  and  watch  me  with  fixed,  intent  gaze.  I  saw 
Louis'  lips  twist  into  a  snarl.  He  glided  to  the  table  even 
as  I  did.  I  held  out  my  hand  to  the  woman. 

"You  have  not  forgotten  me,  I  hope?"  I  asked.  "I 
am  very  glad  indeed  to  see  you  hi  London." 

She  gave  me  her  hand,  and  smiled  her  most  bewitch- 
ing smile.  I  turned  and  stared  at  Louis.  He  had  no 
alternative  but  to  fall  back  a  pace  or  two. 

"Madame,"  I  said,  bending  towards  her,  "it  was  here 
that  Bartot  came  and  dined.  I  have  heard  it  whispered 
that  it  is  not  safe  to  eat  here  if  you  are  not  a  friend  of 
Louis'!" 

For  a  moment  she  failed  to  grasp  the  significance  of 
my  words.  Then  the  color  died  slowly  out  of  her  cheeks. 
Her  face  was  like  the  face  of  an  old  woman.  Fear  had 
come  suddenly,  and  she  was  haggard. 

"You  mean  that  he  would  dare,  monsieur?"  she 
said  — 

"It  is  easy,"  I  answered.  "A  dozen  or  more  of  these 
waiters  are  his  creatures.  From  what  I  have  heard  I 
gather  that  your  visit  here  with  this  gentleman  is  for  a 
purpose  inimical  to  some  scheme  in  which  Delora  and 
Louis  are  interested.  I  warn  you  that  if  it  is  so,  you  had 
better  change  your  mind  about  lunching." 

"We  will  go  at  once!"  she  answered.  "You  are  very 
kind.  I  came  to  confront  Louis  and  that  other  with 
me,"  she  declared,  nodding  vigorously  at  her  companion. 


AT    BAY  285 

"I  came  because  I  would  have  them  understand  who  it 
was  that  had  ruined  their  plans,  because  they  made  use 
of  me  —  of  Bartot  and  me  —  and  threw  us  aside  like 
gloves  that  were  finished  with.  But  it  was  a  foolish  thing 
to  do,  monsieur.  I  see  that,  and  I  thank  you  now  for 
your  warning." 

She  gathered  her  things  together  for  her  departure, 
and  leaned  across  towards  her  companion.  What  she 
said  to  him  I  do  not  know,  for  I  returned  to  my  place. 

"They  will  not  eat,"  I  whispered  to  Lamartine.  "Tell 
me,  who  is  the  man  ?" 

"Hush!"  Lamartine  said.    "Look  there!" 

Apparently  angry  words  had  been  passing  between 
Felicia  and  Delora.  She  had  risen  to  her  feet,  notwith- 
standing his  efforts  to  detain  her,  swept  past  my  table 
with  scarcely  a  glance,  and  made  her  way  towards  where 
the  two  latest  arrivals  were  sitting.  She  stooped  down 
towards  the  man,  and  talked  to  him  earnestly  for  several 
moments.  All  the  time  he  looked  at  her  with  the  puzzled, 
half-vacant  expression  of  a  child  who  is  confronted  with 
something  which  it  does  not  understand.  Delora  had 
risen  to  his  feet,  and  stood  nervously  clutching  the  ser- 
viette in  his  hand.  Louis  hurried  up  to  him,  and  they 
talked  together  for  a  moment. 

"At  all  costs,"  I  heard  Louis  say,  "she  must  be  fetched 
away.  They  will  not  remain  here  to  eat.  Rotherby  has 
warned  them.  See  how  he  is  looking  at  her !  It  is  not 
safe!" 

Something  more  passed  between  them  in  a  low  tone. 
Delora  glanced  at  his  watch,  and  then  at  the  clock.  Finally 
he  crossed  the  room  to  where  his  niece  was  standing,  and 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  man's  shoulder. 

"Ferdinand,"  he  said,  "I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  are 


286  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

better.  Come  up  to  my  rooms  for  a  few  minutes.  We 
must  have  a  talk." 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  something  seemed  to  come 
back  to  the  face  of  the  older  man.  He  rose  slowly  to  his 
feet.  I  could  see  his  white  fingers  trembling,  but  I  could 
see  his  eyes  suddenly  fill  with  a  new  and  stronger  light. 

"You  !"  he  exclaimed.  "Yes,  I  am  here  to  talk  to 
you  !  It  had  better  be  at  once  !  Lead  the  way  !" 

I  saw  Delora  look  towards  the  lady  of  the  turquoises. 
Apparently  he  made  some  remark  which  I  failed  to 
overhear. 

"This  lady  is  my  companion/'  I  heard  the  other  say. 
"She  has  been  very  kind  to  me  —  kinder,  I  am  afraid, 
as  a  stranger,  than  others  have  been  on  whom  I  should 
have  relied.  She  will  accompany  us.  She  does  not 
leave  me." 

Then  the  four  of  them  turned  towards  the  door.  Lamar- 
tine  jogged  my  shoulder  and  I  too  rose.  Behind,  Louis 
was  hovering,  watching  their  departure  with  a  nervous 
anxiety  which  he  could  not  conceal.  Lamartine  and  I 
went  out  close  upon  their  heels. 

"A  new  move,  Louis?"  I  asked,  as  I  passed. 

"The  last,  monsieur,"  Louis  answered,  with  a  bow. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THE   UNEXPECTED 

THE  entrance  to  the  Milan  Court  was  small  and  unim- 
posing,  compared  with  the  entrance  to  the  hotel  proper. 
I  reached  it  to  find  some  confusion  reigning.  A  tall,  gray- 
bearded  man  was  talking  anxiously  to  the  hall-porter. 
Felicia,  standing  a  little  apart,  was  looking  around  with 
an  air  of  bewilderment.  My  lady  of  the  turquoises  was 
standing  by  the  side  of  the  lift,  with  her  arm  drawn  through 
her  companion's.  Lamartine  no  sooner  saw  the  face  of 
the  man  who  was  in  conversation  with  the  hall-porter 
than  he  sprang  forward. 

"Your  Excellency!"  he  exclaimed. 

The  ambassador  turned  quickly  towards  him. 

"Where  is  Delora?"  he  asked. 

"He  was  here  but  five  seconds  ago,"  Lamartine  an- 
swered. "He  must  have  left  the  door  as  you  entered  it !" 

The  man  who  was  standing  with  my  lady  of  the  tur- 
quoises turned  suddenly  round. 

"Delora!"  he  exclaimed.  "That  is  my  name!  I  am 
Ferdinand  Delora !  My  brother  Maurice  was  here  a 
moment  ago.  You  are  Signer  Vanhallon,  are  you  not?" 
he  continued.  "You  must  remember  me  !" 

The  ambassador  grasped  him  by  the  hand. 

"My  dear  Delora,"  he  said,  "of  course  I  do!  What 
has  been  the  meaning  of  all  this  mystery?" 

Lamartine  stepped  quickly  forward. 

"Can't  you  see  what  it  all  means?"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Ferdinand  Delora  here  arrives  in  Paris  on  a  secret  mis- 


288  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

sion  to  England.  There,  through  some  reason  or  through 
some  cause,  —  who  knows  ?  —  he  falls  ill.  There  comes 
to  London  Maurice  Delora  with  some  papers,  playing 
his  part.  Maurice  Delora  was  here  a  moment  ago.  His 
game  is  up  and  he  is  evidently  gone.  The  one  thing  to  be 
feared  is  that  we  are  too  late!" 

The  ambassador  turned  swiftly  to  the  new  Delora,  who 
was  looking  from  one  to  the  other  with  the  pained,  half- 
vacant  expression  of  a  child. 

"Delora,"  he  exclaimed,  "how  comes  it  that  you  have 
let  your  brother  intervene  ?  Did  you  not  understand  how 
secret  your  mission  was  to  be  ?  —  how  important  ?" 

The  man  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "I  have  been  ill.  I  know  noth- 
ing. There  was  an  accident  in  Paris.  I  have  no  papers 
any  longer.  Maurice  has  them  all." 

My  lady  of  the  turquoises  plunged  into  the  conversa- 
tion. 

"But  it  has  been  a  wicked  conspiracy!"  she  cried. 
"Monsieur  here,"  she  added,  clutching  his  arm,  "was 
drugged  and  poisoned.  Since  then  he  has  been  like  a 
child.  He  was  left  to  die,  but  I  found  him,  I  brought  him 
here.  And  meanwhile,  that  wicked  brother  has  been 
playing  his  part,  —  using  even  his  name." 

I  went  to  Felicia. 

"Felicia,"  I  said,  "it  is  you  who  can  clear  this  up.  The 
time  has  come  when  you  must  speak." 

Felicia  was  standing  with  her  hands  clasped  to  her 
head,  looking  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  speakers  as 
though  she  were  trying  in  vain  to  follow  the  sense  of  what 
they  said.  At  my  words  she  turned  to  me  a  little  piteously. 
She  was  beginning  to  understand,  but  she  had  not  realized 
the  whole  truth  yet. 


THE    UNEXPECTED  289 

"The  lady  over  there,"  she  said,  pointing  to  my  lady 
of  the  turquoises,  "has  spoken  the  truth.  Uncle  Ferdi- 
nand was  ill  when  he  arrived  in  Paris.  He  stayed  with 
us  —  that  is,  my  uncle  Maurice  and  I  —  in  the  Rue 
d'Hauteville.  He  seemed  to  get  worse  all  the  time,  and 
he  was  worried  because  of  some  business  in  London  which 
he  could  not  attend  to.  Then  it  was  arranged  that  my 
Uncle  Maurice  should  take  his  place  and  come  over  here, 
only  no  one  was  to  know  that  it  was  not  Ferdinand  him- 
self. It  was  secret  business  for  the  Brazilian  Govern- 
ment. I  do  not  know  what  it  was  about,  but  it  was  very 
important." 

"Your  Uncle  Maurice,  then,"  I  said,  "was  the  uncle 
who  lived  in  Paris  —  whom  you  knew  best?" 

She  nodded. 

"Yes !  I  have  had  to  call  him  Ferdinand  over  here. 
It  was  hateful,  but  they  all  said  that  it  was  necessary." 

A  motor  drew  up  outside.  The  Chinese  ambassador 
stepped  out  with  more  haste  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  use, 
and  by  his  side  a  man  in  dark  clothes  and  silk  hat,  who 
from  the  first  I  suspected  to  be  a  bank  manager.  The 
Brazilian  minister  welcomed  them  on  the  threshold. 

"You  are  looking  for  Delora?"  he  exclaimed. 

The  Chinese  ambassador  looked  around  at  the  little 
circle.  His  face  was  emotionless,  yet  he  spoke  with  a 
haste  which  was  unusual. 

"It  is  true  that  I  seek  him,"  he  said.  "This  morning 
he  has  cashed  a  cheque  for  two  hundred  thousand  pounds. 
I  do  not  understand.  There  is  a  part  of  our  bargain  which 
he  has  not  kept." 

A  gleam  of  intelligence  flitted  into  the  face  of  the  newly 
discovered  Delora.  He  stepped  forward. 

*'It  is  in  order,"  he  said.    "You  have  taken  over  from 


290  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

my  brother,  who  represents  the  Brazilian  Government, 
two  new  battleships." 

"That  is  so,"  His  Excellency  answered,  "but  I  want 
the  indemnity  of  your  ambassador." 

"I  cannot  give  it  you,"  the  ambassador  declared, 
"until  I  have  received  the  money." 

"Where  is  Delora?"  some  one  asked. 

We  looked  around.  The  same  suspicion  was  in  the 
minds  of  all  of  us.  Delora  had  fled  !  I  drew  my  arm 
through  Felicia's,  and  led  her  to  the  lift. 

"Dear,"  I  said,  "you  must  come  upstairs  with  me." 

She  clung  to  me  a  little  hysterically. 

"What  do  they  mean?"  she  said.  "It  is  not  true  that 
my  uncle  has  been  working  for  the  Government  ? " 

"It  is  true  enough,"  I  answered.  "The  only  point  for 
doubt  is  what  he  has  done  with  the  money  he  received  on 
their  account.  Your  Uncle  Ferdinand  there  was  the  person 
who  was  intrusted  with  the  plans  and  commission.  For 
some  reason  or  other  your  Uncle  Maurice  has  carried  it 
through,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  believe  he  has 
gone  off  with  the  money.  If  you  take  my  advice  you 
will  bring  your  Uncle  Ferdinand  upstairs,  and  the  lady 
who  is  with  him,  if  you  like,  and  let  the  others  fight  it 
out." 

She  took  my  advice.  The  new  Delora  was  exhausted, 
and  without  any  complete  comprehension  of  what  had 
taken  place.  Felicia  busied  herself  attending  to  him. 
Then  a  sudden  idea  struck  me.  I  opened  the  door  of  the 
further  bedchamber  softly  and  stood  face  to  face  with 
Delora.  There  was  a  quick  flash,  and  I  looked  into  the 
muzzle  of  a  revolver.  Delora  was  apparently  preparing 
for  flight.  He  had  changed  his  clothes,  and  a  small  hand- 
bag, ready  packed,  was  upon  the  bed. 


THE    UNEXPECTED  291 

"So  it's  you,  you  d — d  interfering  Englishman  !"  he 
said.  "There's  no  one  I'd  sooner  send  to  perdition  !" 

I  stood  quite  still.  I  could  not  exactly  see  what  was 
best  to  be  done,  for  the  man's  hand  was  steady,  and  I 
scarcely  saw  how  I  could  escape  if  indeed  he  pressed  the 
trigger. 

"They  are  looking  for  you  everywhere,"  I  said.  "The 
sound  of  that  revolver  would  fill  your  room." 

"Do  you  think  I  don't  know  it?"  he  answered.  "Do 
you  think  you  would  not  have  had  a  bullet  through  your 
forehead  before  now  if  I  was  not  sure  of  it  ?" 

"Put  your  revolver  down  and  talk  sense!"  I  said. 
"I  am  interested  in  no  one  except  your  niece." 

"It's  a  lie!"  he  answered.  "It's  through  you  I'm  in 
this  hole!" 

"Well,  here's  a  chance  for  you,"  I  said.  "They  are  all 
of  them  down  at  the  Court  entrance.  Probably  some  of 
them  are  on  their  way  up  now.  Turn  to  the  left  and  take 
the  other  lift.  Leave  the  hotel  by  the  Embankment 
entrance." 

"And  walk  into  a  trap !"   he  snarled. 

"Upon  my  honor  I  know  of  none,"  I  answered.  "It  is 
exactly  as  I  have  said." 

I  knew  from  his  face  that  he  had  forgotten  the  other  lift. 
He  snatched  up  his  hat  and  disappeared.  I  returned  to 
the  sitting-room,  and,  although  I  had  made  no  promise, 
the  consciousness  of  my  escape  kept  me  silent  as  to  having 
seen  him.  Felicia  was  sitting  on  the  sofa,  talking  to  her 
uncle.  My  lady  of  the  turquoises,  with  a  triumphant 
smile  upon  her  lips,  was  occupying  the  easy-chair. 

Felicia  rose  at  once  and  drew  me  to  the  window. 

"Capitaine  Rotherby,"  she  said,  "I  fear  that  you  will 
never  forgive  me  nor  believe  me,  —  perhaps  it  does  not 


292  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

matter  so  very  much, —  but  you  see  I  have  seen  no  one  but 
my  Uncle  Maurice  since  I  was  at  school.  He  used  to  visit 
me  there.  He  was  always  kind.  My  Uncle  Ferdinand 
there  came  as  a  stranger.  I  knew  nothing  of  him  except 
that  he  was  taken  ill.  How  he  met  with  his  illness  no  one 
told  me.  Then  my  Uncle  Maurice  came  to  me  one  night 
and  said  that  his  brother  had  come  to  Europe  on  a  wonder- 
ful secret  mission,  and  that  now  he  was  too  ill  to  go  on  with 
it,  it  must  be  carried  through  for  the  honor  of  the  family. 
He  meant  to  call  himself  Ferdinand  Delora,  and  to  come 
to  England  and  do  his  best,  and  I  was  to  come  with  him 
and  hold  my  peace,  and  help  him  where  it  was  possible. 
I  begin  to  understand  now  that,  somehow  or  other,  this 
poor  Ferdinand  was  ill-treated,  and  that  my  Uncle  Mau- 
rice took  his  place,  meaning  to  steal  the  money  he  received. 
But  I  did  not  know  that.  Indeed,  I  did  not  know  it!'* 
she  said,  sobbing. 

I  passed  my  arm  around  her  waist. 

"  Felicia,  dear,"  I  said,  "who  would  doubt  it  ?  Let  them 
fight  this  matter  out  between  them.  It  is  nothing  to  do 
with  us.  You  are  here,  and  you  remain  !" 

She  came  a  little  closer  into  my  arms  with  a  sigh  of  con- 
tent. My  lady  of  the  turquoises  laughed  outright. 

"You  are  infidele,  monsieur!"  she  exclaimed.  "But 
there,  the  poor  child  is  young,  and  she  needs  some  one  to 
look  after  her.  Listen  !  What  is  that  ?  " 

We  all  heard  it,  —  the  sound  of  a  shot  in  the  corridor. 
I  kept  Felicia  back  for  the  moment,  but  the  others  were 
already  outside.  The  waiter  and  the  valet  had  rushed  out 
of  the  service  room.  A  chambermaid,  with  her  apron 
over  her  head,  ran  screaming  along  the  corridor.  There 
in  the  middle  Delora  lay,  flat  on  his  back,  with  his  hands 
thrown  out  and  a  smoking  revolver  by  his  side  !  .  .  . 


THE    UNEXPECTED  293 

I  did  then  what  might  seem  to  be  a  callous  thing.  I  left 
them  all  crowding  around  the  body  of  the  dead  man.  I 
let  even  Felicia  be  led  back  to  her  room  by  her  companion. 
1  took  the  lift  downstairs,  and  I  made  my  way  into  the 
cafe. 

"Where  is  Louis?"   I  asked  the  first  waiter  I  saw. 

"He  is  away  for  a  minute  or  two,  sir,"  the  man  answered. 

Almost  as  he  spoke  Louis  entered  from  the  further  end 
of  the  restaurant.  He  did  not  see  me,  and  I  noticed  that 
his  fingers  were  arranging  his  tie,  and  that  as  he  passed  a 
mirror  he  glanced  at  his  shirt-front.  When  I  came  face 
to  face  with  him  he  was  breathing  fast  as  though  he  had 
been  running. 

"Louis,"  I  said,  "five  flights  of  stairs  are  trying  at  our 
time  of  life!" 

He  looked  at  me  blankly,  and  as  one  who  does  not 
comprehend. 

"Five  flights  of  stairs,  monsieur !"  he  repeated. 

I  nodded. 

"I  myself  came  down  bv  the  lift,"  I  said.  "Louis, 
Delora  is  lying  in  the  corridor  outside  his  rooms  with  a 
bullet  through  his  forehead.  I  am  wondering  whether  he 
shot  himself,  or  whether — " 

"Or  whether  what?"   Louis  asked  softly. 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"After  all,"  I  said,  "I  suppose  the  truth  will  come  out. 
Have  you  any  idea,  I  wonder,  where  those  two  hundred 
thousand  pounds  are?" 

"I,  monsieur!"  —  Louis  held  out  his  hands.  "Delora 
has  had  several  hours  to  dispose  of  them.  If  he  had  taken 
my  advice  he  would  have  been  flying  to  the  south  coast 
in  his  motor  by  now.  As  to  the  money,  well,  it  may  be 
anywhere  " 


294  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

" It  may,  Louis !"   I  admitted. 

"Delora  was  a  bungler,"  Louis  said  slowly.  "The 
gume  was  in  his  hands.  Even  the  reappearance  of  his 
brother  was  not  serious.  He  was  carrying  out  a  perfectly 
legitimate  transaction  in  which  no  one  could  interfere." 

"Excepting,"  I  remarked,  "that  he  proposed  to  retain 
the  proceeds  of  this  sale  of  his." 

"That  would  have  been  hard  to  prove  if  he  had  chosen 
to  assert  the  contrary,"  Louis  remarked.  "Vanhallon 
would  have  had  little  enough  to  say  if  the  money  had  passed 
into  his  hands." 

"And  the  Chinese  ambassador?"  I  remarked. 

"His  documents  would  have  been  good  enough,"  Louis 
replied.  "He  has  the  ships.  He  has  value  for  his  money. 
There  was  no  need  for  Delora  to  have  despaired.  His 
behavior  during  this  last  hour  has  been  the  behavior  of 
a  child.  Monsieur  will  pardon  me  !" 

Louis  glided  away,  and  I  saw  him  smilingly  escorting 
a  party  of  late  guests  to  their  places.  I  stood  where  I  was 
and  watched  him.  To  me,  the  man  was  something  amaz- 
ing !  I  firmly  believed,  even  at  that  moment,  that  he  had, 
safely  hidden,  part,  if  not  the  whole,  of  the  proceeds  of 
this  gigantic  scheme  of  fraud.  I  believed,  too,  that  his  had 
been  the  hand  which  had  killed  Delora.  And  there  he  was, 
within  a  few  minutes  of  the  time  when  the  tragedy  had 
happened,  waiting  upon  his  guests,  consulted  about  the 
vintages  of  wines,  suggesting  dishes !  Upstairs  Delora 
lay,  with  a  little  blue  mark  upon  his  temple !  It  was  the 
survival  of  the  fittest,  this,  in  crime  as  well  as  in  the  other 
things  of  life ! 

I  retraced  my  steps  upstairs.  The  Chinese  ambassador, 
Vanhallon,  and  Lamartine  were  deep  in  conversation  in 
the  dead  man's  sitting-room.  1  was  admitted  to  their 


THE    UNEXPECTED  295 

confidence  after  a  few  minutes'  hesitation.  A  draft  for  one 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  pounds  had  been  found  upon 
the  dead  man,  but  notes  to  the  value  of  forty  thousand 
pounds  were  missing  !  They  looked  at  me  a  little  curiously 
as  I  entered,  and  Lamartine  explained  the  situation  to  me. 

"We  were  wondering  about  the  young  lady,"  he  said. 

"Then  you  need  wonder  no  longer!"  I  said  dryly.  "I 
give  my  word  for  it  that  she  is  ignorant  altogether  of  this 
scheme.  She  believed  that  her  uncle  was  honestly  attempt- 
ing to  carry  out  the  plans  for  which  his  brother  came  to 
Europe,  and  as  for  searching  for  the  money  amongst  her 
belongings,  you  might  as  well  fly!" 

"Where,  then,"  Vanhallon  demanded,  "has  it  gone  to? 
He  has  had  so  little  time." 

I  opened  my  lips  and  closed  them.  After  all,  I  had 
gained  my  end,  and  I  had  realized  a  little  the  folly  of 
meddling  with  things  which  did  not  concern  me.  So  I 
held  my  peace.  I  went  and  sat  down  by  the  side  of  my 
lady  of  the  turquoises. 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "how  did  you  find  him  ?  —  and 
where  ?  Has  he  been  ill,  or  what  is  it  that  is  the  matter  ?" 

I  moved  my  head  towards  where  Delora  was  sitting. 
The  placid,  child-like  expression  still  remained  with  him. 
The  tragedy  which  had  happened  only  a  few  yards  away 
had  left  him  unmoved. 

"I  heard  all  about  him  from  Henri,"  she  said.  "The 
scheme  originally  was  his.  Then  they  tried  to  hurry 
things  through  without  us  —  without  my  man  Henri,  of 
whom  they  had  made  use.  Henri  came  to  London,  and 
he  died  here !  That  much  I  know.  How  much  more 
there  is  to  be  told,  who  can  say  ?  But  I  said  to  myself,  'I 
will  be  revenged  ! '  I  knew  the  hospital  to  which  he  had 
been  taken  —  a  private  hospital  from  which  few  ever 


296  THE    LOST    AMBASSADOR 

come  out !  But  I  went  there,  and  I  swore  that  I  was  his 
daughter.  I  frightened  them  all,  for  I  knew  that  he  had 
been  drugged  and  poisoned  till  his  brain  had  nearly  given 
way.  They  thought  him  harmless,  and  they  let  him  come 
with  me.  I  brought  him  to  England.  I  brought  him  here." 

"And  now?"  I  asked. 

"Now  I  must  go  back,"  she  answered,  "but  at  least 
Henri  is  avenged  !" 

She  leaned  towards  me. 

"Tell  whoever  takes  care  of  him,"  she  whispered  in  my 
ear,  "that  he  cannot  live  long.  The  doctors  have  assured 
me.  It  is  a  matter  of  weeks." 

I  walked  with  her  to  the  door. 

"It  was  an  expensive  journey  for  you,"  I  remarked. 

She  laughed. 

"Henri  did  leave  me  everything,"  she  said.  "I  have 
no  need  of  money.  If  monsieur — " 

She  sighed,  and  looked  towards  the  door  of  Felicia's 
room.  Then  she  fluttered  away  down  the  corridor,  and 
I  slowly  retraced  my  steps.  Felicia  came  out  in  a  few 
minutes  and  sat  by  her  uncle's  side.  The  others  had  all 
departed,  and  we  were  left  alone. 

"Dear,"  I  said,  "this  is  no  place  for  you  any  longer. 
You  must  come  with  me,  and  bring  your  uncle." 

She  held  out  both  her  hands. 

"Wherever  you  say,  Austen  !"   she  murmured. 

A  year  afterwards  I  persuaded  Felicia  to  lunch  at  the 
Milan.  She  was  no  longer  nervous,  for  we  were  intensely 
curious  to  know  if  Louis  were  still  there. 

"There  is  no  doubt,"  I  reminded  her,  "that  your  Uncle 
Maurice  received  the  sum  of  forty  thousand  pounds  in 
notes.  When  he  was  found  shot,  there  was  in  his  pocket- 


THE    UNEXPECTED  297 

book  a  draft  to  the  amount  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  pounds.  The  notes  had  vanished.  I  wonder 
where !" 

"I  wonder!"  she  answered. 

A  waiter  whom  I  knew  came  up  to  greet  us.  I  asked 
him  about  Louis.  He  held  out  his  hands. 

"Monsieur  Louis,"  he  declared,  "had  the  great  good- 
fortune.  A  relative  who  died  left  him  a  great  sum  of 
money.  The  hotel  of  Benzoli  in  St.  James'  Street  was 
for  sale,  and  Louis  he  has  bought  it.  He  makes  much 
money  now." 

"Lucky  Louis!"  I  murmured.  "How  much  was  this 
legacy?  Do  you  know?" 

"I  have  heard,  sir,"  the  man  said,  bending  down,  "that 
it  was  as  much  as  forty  thousand  pounds ! " 

"So  do  the  wicked  flourish  !"    I  murmured  to  Felicia. 

"Monsieur  will  doubtless  pay  a  visit  to  the  Cafe  Ben- 
zoli?" the  man  continued.  "The  cuisine  is  excellent,  and 
many  of  Louis'  friends  have  followed  him  there." 

Felicia  and  I  exchanged  smiling  glances. 

"Somehow  or  other  — "  she  murmured. 

"I  think  the  Milan  will  be  good  enough  for  us  !"  I  said 
decidedly. 

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Spoilers,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

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St.  Elmo.    (Illustrated  Edition.)     By  Augusta  J.  Evans. 

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Stooping   Lady,  The.     By  Maurice  Hewlett. 

Story  of  the  Outlaw,  The.    By  Emerson   Hough. 

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